{"id":280,"date":"2011-09-03T22:53:06","date_gmt":"2011-09-04T02:53:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/?p=280"},"modified":"2011-09-03T22:55:13","modified_gmt":"2011-09-04T02:55:13","slug":"musee-des-beaux-arts-w-h-auden","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/?p=280","title":{"rendered":"Mus\u00e9e des Beaux Arts &#8211; W.H. Auden"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>About suffering they were never wrong,<br \/>\nThe Old Masters; how well, they understood<br \/>\nIts human position; how it takes place<br \/>\nWhile someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;<br \/>\nHow, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting<br \/>\nFor the miraculous birth, there always must be<br \/>\nChildren who did not specially want it to happen, skating<br \/>\nOn a pond at the edge of the wood:<br \/>\nThey never forgot<br \/>\nThat even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course<br \/>\nAnyhow in a corner, some untidy spot<br \/>\nWhere the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer&#8217;s horse<br \/>\nScratches its innocent behind on a tree.<br \/>\nIn Breughel&#8217;s Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away<br \/>\nQuite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may<br \/>\nHave heard the splash, the forsaken cry,<br \/>\nBut for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone<br \/>\nAs it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green<br \/>\nWater; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen<br \/>\nSomething amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,<br \/>\nhad somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.<\/p>\n<p>&#8212;&#8211;<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Mus%C3%A9e_des_Beaux_Arts_(poem)\"><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/upload.wikimedia.org\/wikipedia\/commons\/5\/5e\/Bruegel%2C_Pieter_de_Oude_-_De_val_van_icarus_-_hi_res.jpg\" alt=\"Landscape with the Fall of Icarus\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>Landscape with the Fall of Icarus<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>About suffering they were never wrong, The Old Masters; how well, they understood Its human position; how it takes place While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along; How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting For the miraculous birth, there always must be Children who did not specially [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[65],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-280","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-leisurely-from-the-disaster"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/280","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=280"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/280\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":282,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/280\/revisions\/282"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=280"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=280"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=280"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}