Poem #12" Epitaph on a Tyrant

Auden wrte this one in 1940 after he'd lived in Berlin for a while. The tyrant was Hitler, but most tyrants still fit the mold.

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Epitaph on a Tyrant

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.

~~W. H. Auden


See him read it here: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xqq1r8