Funeral Blues
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.
Funeral Blues” was written by the British poet W. H. Auden .The poem was first published in 1938. It's a poem about the immensity, the intensity of grief. The protagonist has lost someone so important, his life has become meaningless but the rest of the world doesn’t slow down . The routine matters of the world keep going on as if nothing has changed. The speaker experiences this as a kind of rude torture , and commands the world to grieve too. Grief, in the poem, is thus presented as something deeply disorienting and deadening , an emotion that cuts off the people who grieve from the world around them.
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