Poetry: September 1, 1939 by W. H. Auden ‖ Michael Sheen

"September 1, 1939" by W. H. Auden
I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night.
Accurate scholarship can
Unearth the whole offence
From Luther until now
That has driven a culture mad,
Find what occurred at Linz,
What huge imago made
A psychopathic god:
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.
Exiled Thucydides knew
All that a speech can say
About Democracy,
And what dictators do,
The elderly rubbish they talk
To an apathetic grave;
Analysed all in his book,
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming pain,
Mismanagement and grief:
We must suffer them all again.
Into this neutral air
Where blind skyscrapers use
Their full height to proclaim
The strength of Collective Man,
Each language pours its vain
Competitive excuse:
But who can live for long
In an euphoric dream;
Out of the mirror they stare,
Imperialism's face
And the international wrong.
Faces along the bar
Cling to their average day:
The lights must never go out,
The music must always play,
All the conventions conspire
To make this fort assume
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.
The windiest militant trash
Important Persons shout
Is not so crude as our wish:
What mad Nijinsky wrote
About Diaghilev
Is true of the normal heart;
For the error bred in the bone
Of each woman and each man
Craves what it cannot have,
Not universal love
But to be loved alone.
From the conservative dark
Into the ethical life
The dense commuters come,
Repeating their morning vow;
"I will be true to the wife,
I'll concentrate more on my work,"
And helpless governors wake
To resume their compulsory game:
Who can release them now,
Who can reach the deaf,
Who can speak for the dumb?
All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.
Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.
(via Twitter #worldpoetryday)
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[@chrisstark7038]

Fantastic reading.

[@brendafuller6186]

💖WOW. Thank you Mr. Sheen, thank you very much. I love your voice, love your British accent, wish they'd let you use it on TV. God bless you & your family.

[@kaziniazahmed4541]

Such a wonderful poem! I can’t fathom why Auden absolutely hated it in his later life! Nothing wrong with the poem.

[@philotimoc904]

After listening to various other readings including the famous Dylan Thomas reading, I have settled on this one, the best in my opinion.

[@nickpremierguns173]

Its hard to hear a more insightful picture of that impending moment. And read brilliantly

[@orth82]

I felt these words in my soul.

[@theonlylunchbox]

Reminds me of Suheir Hammad's First Writing Since - after 9/11. I often feel I need to commit poems of WH Auden to memory. Michael is brilliant.

[@idecantwellbarnes6707]

A beautiful speaking of this almost too raw and profoundly powerful and disturbing poem. Thank you.

[@thegingergyrl455]

Ah my bonnie Welshman! I love this reading. Thank you for making it available.

[@okaminess]

Right!! I want him to do the third Phillip Pullman novel from Book of Dust whenever it comes out!! Already listening to the first one. It's amazing what he's done in audiobooks and radio! I'm there!

[@barbaricamus]

"Of each woman and each man Craves what it cannot have, Not universal love But to be loved alone."

[@chrisbalay7531]

Wow, wonderful reading of a powerful poem.

[@carmenbeltran4687]

thank you Zsu for this video..Michael is so cute and he's reading with that beautiful british accent...love this!!.. Carmen

[@brendafuller6186]

Zsuzsanna, thank you for these! 💖

[@TheNovakovicnovak]

'We must love one another or die...' - Auden has thrown away the stanza later in his life due to its dishonesty.

[@cletereinberger]

Yeah I’ve heard about this. I tend to think it is honest and he just didn’t personally believe it. His art transcends him. I must love you and you must love me or we will die. That’s the truth. Who’s to say🤷🏻‍♂️

[@joelassoko]

I remember He changed or die to *and* die. Then discarded the whole poem from his collection. Even for such a gifted writer, comes the moment when you have showed too much of what you are, and you try to cover it up, claim it back, to « lie back ».

[@luciavitale5903]

Thank You!

[@brendafuller6186]

Mar. 22, 2020.

[@benjaminmaracek535]

“February 24, 2022.....

[@CozmoCreepers1983]

Why can’t I stop watching anything else but his mouth???

[@poettttt]

Because Auden composed poetry for the ear and the mind. It was an aural artform with no visual aspedt to look at.