VERSES OF THE DAY

"Many Happy Returns"

-W.H.AUDEN-

Johnny, since to-day is

February the twelfth when

neighbors and relations

think of you and wish,

though a staunch Aquarian,

graciously accept the

verbal celebrations

of a doubtful fish.

seven years ago you

warmed your mother's heart by

making a successful

debut on our stage;

naivete's an act that

you already know you

cannot get away with

even at your age.

so I wish you first a

sense of theatre; only

those who love illusion

and know it will go far:

otherwise we spend our

lives in a confusion

of what we say and do with

who we really are.

you will any day now

have this revelation:

"why, we're all like people

acting in a play."

and will suffer, Johnny,

man's unique temptation

precisely at the moment

you utter this cliche.

remember if you can then,

only the All-Father

can change the cast or give them

easier lines to say;

deliberate interference

with others for their own good

is not allowed the author

of the play within The Play.

just because our pride's an

evil there's no end to,

birthdays and the arts are

justified, for when

we consciously pretend to

own the earth or play at

being gods, thereby we

own that we are men.

as a human creature

you will all too often

forget your proper station,

Johnny, like us all;

therefore let your birthday

be a wild occasion like a Saturnalia

or a Servant's Ball.

what else shall I wish you?

following convention

shall i wish you Beauty,

Money, Happiness?

or anything you mention?

no, for I recall an

ancient proverb--nothing

fails like a success.

what limping devil sets our

head and heart at variance,

that each time the Younger

Generation sails,

the old and weather-beaten

deny their own experience

and pray the gods to send them

calm seas, auspicious gales?

I'm not such an idiot

as to claim the power

to peer into the vistas

of your future, still

I'm prepared to guess you

have not found your life as

easy as your sister's

and you never will.

if I'm right about this,

may you in your troubles,

neither (like so many

in the U.S.A.)

be ashamed of any

suffering as vulgar,

nor bear them like a hero

in the biggest way.

all the possibilities

it had to reject are

what give life and warmth to

an actual character;

the roots of wit and charm tap

secret springs of sorrow,

every brilliant doctor

hides a murderer.

then, since all self-knowledge

tempts man into envy,

may you, by acquiring

proficiency in what

Whitehead calls the art of

Negative Prehension,

love without desiring

all that you are not.

Tao is a tightrope,

so to keep your balance,

may you always, Johnny,

manage to combine

intellectual talents

with a sensual gusto,

the Socratic Doubt with

the Socratic Sign.

that is all I can

think of at this moment

and it's time I brought these

verses to a close:

Happy Birthday, Johnny,

live beyond your income,

travel for enjoyment,

follow your own nose.