Funeral Blues

I give credit to Four Weddings and a Funeral film for recognizing this awfully sad poem by poet W.H. Auden. It was the poem that John Hannah's character read aloud when his partner, Gareth, died.

While it may not always talk about death, I think this poem can aptly summarize any human being's emotional grief. I am seriously pondering of memorizing this beautiful piece in case I don't find the right words for my own grief.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.