バリー・スローンのインスタグラム(barrypaulsloane) - 8月27日 04時50分

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚜.
𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎.

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 🇬🇧

Going, Going. By Philip Larkin

I thought it would last my time -
The sense that, beyond the town,
There would always be fields and farms,
Where the village louts could climb
Such trees as were not cut down;
I knew there’d be false alarms

In the papers about old streets
And split level shopping, but some
Have always been left so far;
And when the old part retreats
As the bleak high-risers come
We can always escape in the car.

Things are tougher than we are, just
As earth will always respond
However we mess it about;
Chuck filth in the sea, if you must:
The tides will be clean beyond.
But what do I feel now?
Doubt?

Or age, simply? The crowd
Is young in the M1 cafe;
Their kids are screaming for more—
More houses, more parking allowed,
More caravan sites, more pay.
On the Business Page, a score

Of spectacled grins approve
Some takeover bid that entails
Five per cent profit (and ten
Per cent more in the estuaries): move
Your works to the unspoilt dales
(Grey area grants)! And when

You try to get near the sea
In summer . . .
It seems, just now,
To be happening so very fast;
Despite all the land left free
For the first time I feel somehow
That it isn’t going to last,

That before I snuff it, the whole
Boiling will be bricked in
Except for the tourist parts—
First slum of Europe: a role
It won’t be hard to win,
With a cast of crooks and tarts.

And that will be England gone,
The shadows, the meadows, the lanes,
The guildhalls, the carved choirs.
There’ll be books; it will linger on
In galleries; but all that remains
For us will be concrete and tyres.

Most things are never meant.
This won’t be, most likely; but greeds
And garbage are too thick-strewn
To be swept up now, or invent
Excuses that make them all needs.
I just think it will happen, soon.

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