Night off

scylla charybdis.jpgIt’s been a long day, so tonight no updates, no news. A picture and a poem instead.

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.

 — WH Auden