Three Short Poems, par W. H. Auden

W. H. Auden

Three Short Poems

The underground roads

Are, as the dead prefer them,

Always tortuous.

. . .

When he looked the cave in the eye,

Hercules

Had a moment of doubt.

. . .

Leaning out over

The dreadful precipice,

One contemptuous tree.

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W. H. Auden