W. H. Auden

It's No Use Raising a Shout

It’s no use raising a shout.
No, Honey, you can cut that right out.
I don’t want any more hugs;
Make me some fresh tea, fetch me some rugs.
Here am I, here are you:But what does it mean?
What are we going to do?
 
A long time ago I told my mother
I was leaving home to find another:
I never answered her letter
But I never found a better.
Here am I, here are you:
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?
 
It wasn’t always like this?
Perhaps it wasn’t, but it is.
Put the car away; when life fails,
What’s the good of going to Wales?
Here am I, here are you:
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?
 
In my spine there was a base;
And I knew the general’s face:
But they’ve severed all the wires,
And I can’t tell what the general desires.
Here am I, here are you:
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?
 
In my veins there is a wish,
And a memory of fish:
When I lie crying on the floor,
It says, ‘You’ve often done this before.’
Here am I, here are you:
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?
 
A bird used to visit this shore:
It isn’t going to come anymore.
I’ve come a long way to prove
No land, no water, and no love.
Here am I, here are you:
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?
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