Epitaph On A Tyrant
W.H. AUDEN (1907-1973)
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.
Epitaf pe Mormântul unui Tiran
W.H. Auden (1907-1973)
Perfecţia, din mintea lui, era tot ce voia,
Iar lozincile ce le gândea erau lesne de înţeles;
El ştia pe de rost folia lumii,
Şi era obsedat de forţele terestre şi navale;
Când râdea, cei mai inţelepţi senatori hohoteau de râs,
Iar când plângea, copiii mureau la colţ de stradă.
(Rendered in Romanian
by Constantin ROMAN, London,
© 2012, Copyright Constantin ROMAN)
