(...) But if
Sins can be forgiven, if bodies rise from the dead,
These modifications of matter into
Innocent athletes and gesticulating fountains,
Made solely for pleasure, make a further point:
The blessed will not care what angle they are regarded from,
Having nothing to hide. Dear, I know nothing of
Either, but when I try to imagine a faultless love
Or the life to come, what I hear is the murmur Of underground streams, what I see is a limestone landscape.
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Wednesday, February 21, 2007
In Praise of Limestone
W.H. Auden at a hundred.
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