W. H. Auden

W. H. Auden, poète et critique britannique né à York en 1907 et mort en 1973, est considéré comme l'un des plus grands poètes du XXe siècle.
Il s'inspire d'auteurs aussi variés que William Shakespeare, Karl Marx, Sigmund Freud ou Soren Kierkegaard.
Auden a écrit un très grand nombre d'ouvrages critiques et d'essais ainsi que des pièces de théâtre avec Christopher Isherwood, mais c'est avant tout en tant que poète qu'il est connu et reconnu. Il écrit dans un large éventail de formes, aussi bien des formes classiques que plus originales et complexes et il fait preuves d'autant d'habileté quelles que soient les formes utilisées.
Plutôt que d'imposer un sens, Auden aimait construire des paraboles que le lecteur appréhende selon sa perception et ses besoins immédiats. Il se considérait comme un colonisateur du vers moderne.
Grand poète à la plume lyrique et envoutante, Auden manie à la perfection l'art de transporter le lecteur à travers ces vers.
Tous ces textes ne sont pas traduits en français, mais il existe tout de même de nombreuses traductions dont certaines sont très intéressantes. Je me permets de citer ici un de ses poèmes en anglais pour n'imposer aucune traduction et pour vous laisser le plaisir de le lire dans le texte.

If I Could Tell You

Time will say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

Suppose all the lions get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will Time say nothing but I told you so?
If I could tell you I would let you know.

W.H. Auden

Tiens, j'aurais juré qu'il avait un fil. Ou alors c'est dans le fil "coup de coeur poétique".
Je l'aime beaucoup aussi!

Pour ceux qui s'intéressent à W.H. Auden, je ne peux que recommander le livre Auden ou l'œil de la baleine de Guy Goffette, dont je parle un peu ici

Un poème souvent cité même dans 4 mariages et un enterrement


Funeral Blues

Arrêtez les pendules, coupez le téléphone
Empêchez le chien d'aboyer pour l'os que je lui donne
Faites taire les pianos et sans roulements de tambour
Sortez le cercueil avant la fin du jour

Que les avions qui hurlent au dehors
Dessinent dans le ciel ces trois mots : il est mort
Nouez des voiles noirs aux colonnes des édifices
Gantez de noir les mains des agents de police

Il était mon nord, mon sud, mon est, mon ouest
Ma semaine de travail, mon dimanche de sieste
Mon midi, mon minuit, ma parole, ma chanson
Je croyais que l'amour jamais ne finirait : j'avais tort

Que les étoiles se retirent, qu'on les balaye
Démontez la lune et le soleil
Videz l'océan, arrachez les forêts
Car rien de bon ne peut advenir désormais


Extrait du film: Four Weddings and a Funeral - "Funeral Blues"

Foxtrot From a Play

The soldier loves his rifle,
The scholar loves his books,
The farmer loves his horses,
The film star loves her looks.
There's love the whole world over
Wherever you may be;
Some lose their rest for gay Mae West,
But you're my cup of tea.

Some talk of Alexander
And some of Fred Astaire,
Some like their heroes hairy
Some like them debonair,
Some prefer a curate
And some an A.D.C.,
Some like a tough to treat'em rough,
But you're my cup of tea.

Some are mad on Airedales
And some on Pekinese,
On tabby cats or parrots
Or guinea pigs or geese,
There are patients in asylums
Who think that they're a tree;
I had an ant who loved a plant
But you're my cup of tea.

Some have sagging waistlines
And some a bulbous nose
And some a floating kidney
And some have hammer toes,
Some have tennis elbow
And some have housemaid's knee,
And some I know have got B.O.,
But you're my cup of tea.

The blackbird loves the earthworm,
The adder loves the sun,
The polar bear an iceberg,
The elephant a bun
The trout enjoys the river,
The whale enjoys the sea,
And dogs love most an old lamp-post,
But you're my cup of tea.


Lu à voix haute Ici (par un acteur)

Celui-ci est également très beau:

As I Walked Out One Evening


As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.

'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.

'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.

'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.

'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

'O look, look in the mirror?
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.'

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.