Funeral Blues (by W.H.Auden) ^(试发表)

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 forever: 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. 葬礼蓝调 停下所有的钟，电话也挂断， 给狗儿一块肉骨头别让它叫唤， 令钢琴静音，鼓低沉地敲开， 抬出灵柩，让送葬的人都过来。 让飞机都盘旋在头顶呜咽 在天空潦草地写下：“他 死 了”。 放飞群鸽的白色脖颈都围上绉纱， 让交通警察换上黑色手套。 他是我的北，我的南，我的东和西， 我的工作日和我礼拜天的休息， 是我的午，我的夜，我的谈话，我的唱歌； 我还以为能爱到永远，我错了。 繁星已经无用；熄掉每一点光， 收起月亮，掩去骄阳， 把海水抽干，把林木铲掉， 从今世上再也没有美好。 作者 / W.H.奥登