The sky is darkening like a stain Something is going to fall like rain And it won't be flowers - W. H. Auden

The most exciting rhythms seem unexpected and complex, the most beautiful melodies simple and inevitable.

And the poor in their fireless lodgings, dropping the sheets Of the evening paper: "Our day is our loss, O show us History the operator, the Organiser, Time the refreshing river." <p> And the nations combine each cry, invoking the life That shapes the individual belly and orders The private nocturnal terror: "Did you not found the city state of the sponge,<p>"Raise the vast military empires of the shark And the tiger, establish the robin's plucky canton? Intervene. Descend as a dove or A furious papa or a mild engineer, but descend."

All the rest is silence
On the other side of the wall;
And the silence ripeness,
And the ripeness all.