Epitaph on a Tyrant
W.H. Auden (1907-1973)
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.
Epitafio a un tirano
La perfección, de cierta clase, era lo que buscaba
y la poesía que inventaba era sencilla de entender;
conocía la insensatez del hombre como la palma de su mano,
y estaba muy interesado en flotas y en ejércitos;
cuando reía, respetables senadores lanzaban carcajadas
y si lloraba, los niñitos morían en las calles
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