We and our partners use technologies, such as cookies, to recognize you and show you more of what you like. Please read our Privacy Policy to learn more. By using this website you agree to the use of those technologies.
Kabul ediyorum.
adin
W. H. Auden, The Average.
His peasant parents killed themselves with toil
To let their darling leave a stingy soil
For any of those smart professions which
Encourage shallow breathing, and grow rich.
The pressure of their fond ambition made
Their shy and country-loving child afraid
No sensible career was good enough,
Only a hero could deserve such love.
So here he was without maps or supplies,
A hundred miles from any decent town;
The desert glared into his blood-shot eyes;
The silence roared displeasure: looking down,
He saw the shadow of an Average Man
Attempting the Exception, and ran.
