Andrea introduced me to this poem today, and I am glad she did. Reading it, I had one of those rare and wonderful moments in which the words I read express what I feel better than I ever could myself. This is also the effect that reading C.S. Lewis and Chesterton has on me (which I think must mean that my unexpressed thoughts and feelings are really quite cliche, after all). Well, here is the poem:
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.
Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.
Auden
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