Unbiased at least he was when he arrived on his mission, <br />Having never set eyes on the land he was called to partition <br />Between two peoples fanatically at odds, <br />With their different diets and incompatible gods. <br />"Time," they had briefed him in London, "is short. It's too late <br />For mutual reconciliation or rational debate: <br />The only solution now lies in separation. <br />The Viceroy thinks, as you will see from his letter, <br />That the less you are seen in his company the better, <br />So we've arranged to provide you with other accommodation. <br />We can give you four judges, two Moslem and two Hindu, <br />To consult with, but the final decision must rest with you." <br /> <br />Shut up in a lonely mansion, with police night and day <br />Patrolling the gardens to keep the assassins away, <br />He got down to work, to the task of settling the fate <br />Of millions. The maps at his disposal were out of date <br />And the Census Returns almost certainly incorrect, <br />But there was no time to check them, no time to inspect <br />Contested areas. The weather was frightfully hot, <br />And a bout of dysentery kept him constantly on the trot, <br />But in seven weeks it was done, the frontiers decided, <br />A continent for better or worse divided. <br /> <br />The next day he sailed for England, where he could quickly forget <br />The case, as a good lawyer must. Return he would not, <br />Afraid, as he told his Club, that he might get shot.<br /><br />Wystan Hugh Auden<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/partition/
