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Say there’s a boy who has two dreams, One concerns business, one fishing in streams; But which is the more real my friend? A wolf licked an Eskimo’s blood-covered knife, Licked it till it cut-up and bled out its life; But are wolves’ impulses wrong my friend? I saw a terrible play with a terrible end And horrid lines no writer could mend; But do you think I missed the point my friend? Someone opened a door and let a dog in, Unaware of where most strays have been; But what is real kindness my friend? One hundred slaves wept at their fortune, United, killed the tyrant—ultimately won ; But don’t they still work for their livings my friend? I found a pocket watch in a patch of tall grass, Hoped selfishly, watched centuries pass; But weren't we told time heals wounds my friend?
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Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
Say there's a boy who has two dreams (Revisited)
Say there’s a boy who has two dreams, One concerns business, one fishing in streams; But which is the more real my friend? A wolf licked an Eskimo’s blood-covered knife, Licked it till it cut-up and bled out its life; But are wolves’ impulses wrong my friend? I saw a terrible play with a terrible end And horrid lines no writer could mend; But do you think I missed the point my friend? Someone opened a door and let a dog in, Unaware of where most strays have been; But what is real kindness my friend? One hundred slaves wept at their fortune, United, killed the tyrant—ultimately won ; But don’t they still work for their livings my friend? I found a pocket watch in a patch of tall grass, Hoped selfishly, watched centuries pass; But weren't we told time heals wounds my friend?
This poem was inspired by W.H. Auden's "Refugee Blues": Say this city has ten million souls, Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes: Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us. Once we had a country and we thought it fair, Look in the atlas and you'll find it there: We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now. In the village churchyard there grows an old yew, Every spring it blossoms anew; Old passports can't do that, my dear, old passports can't do that. The consul banged the table and said: 'If you've got no passport, you're officially dead'; But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive. Went to a committee; they offered me a chair; Asked me politely to return next year: But where shall we go today, my dear, but where shall we go today? Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said: 'If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread'; He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me. Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky; It was ****** over Europe, saying: 'They must die'; We were in his mind, my dear, we were in his mind. Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin, Saw a door opened and a cat let in: But they weren't German Jews, my dear, but they weren't German Jews. Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay, Saw the fish swimming as if they were free: Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away. Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees; They had no politicians and sang at their ease: They weren't the human race, my dear, they weren't the human race. Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors, A thousand windows and a thousand doors; Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours. Stood on a great plain in the falling snow; Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro: Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.
christopher-howard-gorrie
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Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
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