Poem of the day

[pallas_athena]

Quartet of the Defeated, by W. H. Auden
From his libretto for Benjamin Britten's opera Paul Bunyan, 1941

Gold in the North came the blizzard to say,
I left my sweetheart at the break of day,
The gold ran out and my love grew grey.
You don't know all, sir, you don't know all.

The West, said the Sun, for enterprise,
A bullet in Frisco put me wise,
My last words were "God damn your eyes!"
You don't know all, sir, you don't know all.

In the streets of New York I was young and well,
I rode the market, the market fell,
One morning I found myself in hell,
I didn't know all, sir, I didn't know all.

In the saloons I heaved a sigh.
Lost in deserts of alkali I lay down to die.
There's always a sorrow can get you down,
All the world's whisky can never drown.
You don't know all, sir, you don't know all.

Some think they're strong, some think they're smart,
Like butterflies they're pulled apart,
America can break your heart.
You don't know all, sir, you don't know all.