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About
suffering they were never wrong, The
Old Masters: how well they understood Its
human position; how it takes place While
someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along; How,
when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting For
the miraculous birth, there always must be Children
who did not specially want it to happen, skating On
a pond at the edge of the wood: They
never forgot That
even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course Anyhow
in a corner, some untidy spot Where
the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse Scratches
its innocent behind on a tree. In
Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away Quite
leisurely from the disaster; the plowman may Have
heard the splash, the forsaken cry, But
for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone As
it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green Water;
and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen Something
amazing, a boy falling out of the sky, Had
somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.
WH Auden
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