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Poem by Wystan Hugh Auden


The More Loving Kind


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.

1957

Wystan Hugh Auden


Wystan Hugh Auden's other poems:
  1. The Sabbath
  2. Lullaby
  3. Who’s Who
  4. O Where Are You Going...
  5. Limbo Culture


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