Monday, May 12, 2008

The last plane out of disaster

When I dug out my venerable Penguin Auden to check on Lullaby I was surprised to find a scrap of paper marking the page of The Managers

Auden wrote this over half a century ago, but it could well have been written about a certain Twenty First Century Prime Minister. Here is the closing section:



To rule must be a calling,
It seems, like surgery or sculpture, the fun
Neither love nor money
But taking the necessary risks, the test
Of one’s skill, the question,
If difficult, their own reward.


But then
Perhaps one should mention
Also what must be a comfort as they guess
In times like the present
When guesses can prove so fatally wrong,
The fact of belonging
To the very select indeed, to those
For whom, just supposing
They do, there will be places on the last
Plane out of disaster.


No; no one is really sorry for their
Heavy gait & careworn
Look, nor would they thank you if you said you were