Looking up at the stars I know quite well,
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least,
We have to dread from man to beast.
How should we like it were stars to burn,
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Admirer as I think I am,
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.
Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.
W H Auden
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