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the waste land ts eliot

pmichelreichold Apr 18th, 2014 97 Never
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  1. The Waste Land
  2. BY T. S. ELIOT
  3. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/173476
  4.                                   FOR EZRA POUND
  5.                                 IL MIGLIOR FABBRO
  6.  
  7.               I. The Burial of the Dead
  8.  
  9.   April is the cruellest month, breeding
  10. Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
  11. Memory and desire, stirring
  12. Dull roots with spring rain.
  13. Winter kept us warm, covering
  14. Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
  15. A little life with dried tubers.
  16. Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
  17. With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
  18. And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
  19. And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
  20. Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
  21. And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
  22. My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
  23. And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
  24. Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
  25. In the mountains, there you feel free.
  26. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
  27.  
  28.   What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
  29. Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
  30. You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
  31. A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
  32. And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
  33. And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
  34. There is shadow under this red rock,
  35. (Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
  36. And I will show you something different from either
  37. Your shadow at morning striding behind you
  38. Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
  39. I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
  40.                       Frisch weht der Wind
  41.                       Der Heimat zu
  42.                       Mein Irisch Kind,
  43.                       Wo weilest du?
  44. “You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
  45. “They called me the hyacinth girl.”
  46. —Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
  47. Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
  48. Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
  49. Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
  50. Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
  51. Oed’ und leer das Meer.
  52.  
  53.   Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
  54. Had a bad cold, nevertheless
  55. Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
  56. With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
  57. Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
  58. (Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
  59. Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
  60. The lady of situations.
  61. Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
  62. And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
  63. Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,
  64. Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
  65. The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
  66. I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
  67. Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
  68. Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
  69. One must be so careful these days.
  70.  
  71.   Unreal City,
  72. Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
  73. A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
  74. I had not thought death had undone so many.
  75. Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
  76. And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
  77. Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
  78. To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
  79. With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
  80. There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying: “Stetson!
  81. “You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
  82. “That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
  83. “Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
  84. “Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
  85. “Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,
  86. “Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!
  87. “You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!”
  88.  
  89.  
  90.               II. A Game of Chess
  91.  
  92. The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,
  93. Glowed on the marble, where the glass
  94. Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines
  95. From which a golden Cupidon peeped out
  96. (Another hid his eyes behind his wing)
  97. Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra
  98. Reflecting light upon the table as
  99. The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,
  100. From satin cases poured in rich profusion;
  101. In vials of ivory and coloured glass
  102. Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,
  103. Unguent, powdered, or liquid—troubled, confused
  104. And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air
  105. That freshened from the window, these ascended
  106. In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,
  107. Flung their smoke into the laquearia,
  108. Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.
  109. Huge sea-wood fed with copper
  110. Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone,
  111. In which sad light a carvéd dolphin swam.
  112. Above the antique mantel was displayed
  113. As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene
  114. The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king
  115. So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale
  116. Filled all the desert with inviolable voice
  117. And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
  118. “Jug Jug” to dirty ears.
  119. And other withered stumps of time
  120. Were told upon the walls; staring forms
  121. Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.
  122. Footsteps shuffled on the stair.
  123. Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair
  124. Spread out in fiery points
  125. Glowed into words, then would be savagely still.
  126.  
  127.   “My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
  128. “Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.
  129.   “What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
  130. “I never know what you are thinking. Think.”
  131.  
  132.   I think we are in rats’ alley
  133. Where the dead men lost their bones.
  134.  
  135.   “What is that noise?”
  136.                           The wind under the door.
  137. “What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?”
  138.                            Nothing again nothing.
  139.                                                         “Do
  140. “You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember
  141. “Nothing?”
  142.  
  143.        I remember
  144. Those are pearls that were his eyes.
  145. “Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”  
  146.          
  147.                                                                            But
  148. O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—
  149. It’s so elegant
  150. So intelligent
  151. “What shall I do now? What shall I do?”
  152. “I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street
  153. “With my hair down, so. What shall we do tomorrow?
  154. “What shall we ever do?”
  155.                                                The hot water at ten.
  156. And if it rains, a closed car at four.
  157. And we shall play a game of chess,
  158. Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.
  159.  
  160.   When Lil’s husband got demobbed, I said—
  161. I didn’t mince my words, I said to her myself,
  162. HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
  163. Now Albert’s coming back, make yourself a bit smart.
  164. He’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave you
  165. To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.
  166. You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,
  167. He said, I swear, I can’t bear to look at you.
  168. And no more can’t I, I said, and think of poor Albert,
  169. He’s been in the army four years, he wants a good time,
  170. And if you don’t give it him, there’s others will, I said.
  171. Oh is there, she said. Something o’ that, I said.
  172. Then I’ll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look.
  173. HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
  174. If you don’t like it you can get on with it, I said.
  175. Others can pick and choose if you can’t.
  176. But if Albert makes off, it won’t be for lack of telling.
  177. You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.
  178. (And her only thirty-one.)
  179. I can’t help it, she said, pulling a long face,
  180. It’s them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.
  181. (She’s had five already, and nearly died of young George.)
  182. The chemist said it would be all right, but I’ve never been the same.
  183. You are a proper fool, I said.
  184. Well, if Albert won’t leave you alone, there it is, I said,
  185. What you get married for if you don’t want children?
  186. HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
  187. Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,
  188. And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot—
  189. HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
  190. HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
  191. Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight.
  192. Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.
  193. Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.
  194.  
  195.  
  196.               III. The Fire Sermon
  197.  
  198.   The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf
  199. Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind
  200. Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed.
  201. Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
  202. The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,
  203. Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends
  204. Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed.
  205. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors;
  206. Departed, have left no addresses.
  207. By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . .
  208. Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,
  209. Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.
  210. But at my back in a cold blast I hear
  211. The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.
  212.  
  213. A rat crept softly through the vegetation
  214. Dragging its slimy belly on the bank
  215. While I was fishing in the dull canal
  216. On a winter evening round behind the gashouse
  217. Musing upon the king my brother’s wreck
  218. And on the king my father’s death before him.
  219. White bodies naked on the low damp ground
  220. And bones cast in a little low dry garret,
  221. Rattled by the rat’s foot only, year to year.
  222. But at my back from time to time I hear
  223. The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring
  224. Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring.
  225. O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter
  226. And on her daughter
  227. They wash their feet in soda water
  228. Et O ces voix d’enfants, chantant dans la coupole!
  229.  
  230. Twit twit twit
  231. Jug jug jug jug jug jug
  232. So rudely forc’d.
  233. Tereu
  234.  
  235. Unreal City
  236. Under the brown fog of a winter noon
  237. Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant
  238. Unshaven, with a pocket full of currants
  239. C.i.f. London: documents at sight,
  240. Asked me in demotic French
  241. To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel
  242. Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.
  243.  
  244. At the violet hour, when the eyes and back
  245. Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits
  246. Like a taxi throbbing waiting,
  247. I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives,
  248. Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see
  249. At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives
  250. Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,
  251. The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights
  252. Her stove, and lays out food in tins.
  253. Out of the window perilously spread
  254. Her drying combinations touched by the sun’s last rays,
  255. On the divan are piled (at night her bed)
  256. Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays.
  257. I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs
  258. Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest—
  259. I too awaited the expected guest.
  260. He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,
  261. A small house agent’s clerk, with one bold stare,
  262. One of the low on whom assurance sits
  263. As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.
  264. The time is now propitious, as he guesses,
  265. The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,
  266. Endeavours to engage her in caresses
  267. Which still are unreproved, if undesired.
  268. Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
  269. Exploring hands encounter no defence;
  270. His vanity requires no response,
  271. And makes a welcome of indifference.
  272. (And I Tiresias have foresuffered all
  273. Enacted on this same divan or bed;
  274. I who have sat by Thebes below the wall
  275. And walked among the lowest of the dead.)
  276. Bestows one final patronising kiss,
  277. And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit . . .
  278.  
  279. She turns and looks a moment in the glass,
  280. Hardly aware of her departed lover;
  281. Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:
  282. “Well now that’s done: and I’m glad it’s over.”
  283. When lovely woman stoops to folly and
  284. Paces about her room again, alone,
  285. She smoothes her hair with automatic hand,
  286. And puts a record on the gramophone.
  287.  
  288. “This music crept by me upon the waters”
  289. And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street.
  290. O City city, I can sometimes hear
  291. Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street,
  292. The pleasant whining of a mandoline
  293. And a clatter and a chatter from within
  294. Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls
  295. Of Magnus Martyr hold
  296. Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold.
  297.  
  298.                The river sweats
  299.                Oil and tar
  300.                The barges drift
  301.                With the turning tide
  302.                Red sails
  303.                Wide
  304.                To leeward, swing on the heavy spar.
  305.                The barges wash
  306.                Drifting logs
  307.                Down Greenwich reach
  308.                Past the Isle of Dogs.
  309.                                  Weialala leia
  310.                                  Wallala leialala
  311.  
  312.                Elizabeth and Leicester
  313.                Beating oars
  314.                The stern was formed
  315.                A gilded shell
  316.                Red and gold
  317.                The brisk swell
  318.                Rippled both shores
  319.                Southwest wind
  320.                Carried down stream
  321.                The peal of bells
  322.                White towers
  323.                                 Weialala leia
  324.                                 Wallala leialala
  325.  
  326. “Trams and dusty trees.
  327. Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew
  328. Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees
  329. Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.”
  330.  
  331. “My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart
  332. Under my feet. After the event
  333. He wept. He promised a ‘new start.’
  334. I made no comment. What should I resent?”
  335.  
  336. “On Margate Sands.
  337. I can connect
  338. Nothing with nothing.
  339. The broken fingernails of dirty hands.
  340. My people humble people who expect
  341. Nothing.”
  342.                        la la
  343.  
  344. To Carthage then I came
  345.  
  346. Burning burning burning burning
  347. O Lord Thou pluckest me out
  348. O Lord Thou pluckest
  349.  
  350. burning
  351.  
  352.  
  353.               IV. Death by Water
  354.  
  355. Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
  356. Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell
  357. And the profit and loss.
  358.                                    A current under sea
  359. Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
  360. He passed the stages of his age and youth
  361. Entering the whirlpool.
  362.                                    Gentile or Jew
  363. O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,
  364. Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.
  365.  
  366.  
  367.               V. What the Thunder Said
  368.  
  369.   After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
  370. After the frosty silence in the gardens
  371. After the agony in stony places
  372. The shouting and the crying
  373. Prison and palace and reverberation
  374. Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
  375. He who was living is now dead
  376. We who were living are now dying
  377. With a little patience
  378.  
  379. Here is no water but only rock
  380. Rock and no water and the sandy road
  381. The road winding above among the mountains
  382. Which are mountains of rock without water
  383. If there were water we should stop and drink
  384. Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
  385. Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
  386. If there were only water amongst the rock
  387. Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
  388. Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit
  389. There is not even silence in the mountains
  390. But dry sterile thunder without rain
  391. There is not even solitude in the mountains
  392. But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
  393. From doors of mudcracked houses
  394.                                       If there were water
  395.    And no rock
  396.    If there were rock
  397.    And also water
  398.    And water
  399.    A spring
  400.    A pool among the rock
  401.    If there were the sound of water only
  402.    Not the cicada
  403.    And dry grass singing
  404.    But sound of water over a rock
  405.    Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
  406.    Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
  407.    But there is no water
  408.  
  409. Who is the third who walks always beside you?
  410. When I count, there are only you and I together
  411. But when I look ahead up the white road
  412. There is always another one walking beside you
  413. Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
  414. I do not know whether a man or a woman
  415. —But who is that on the other side of you?
  416.  
  417. What is that sound high in the air
  418. Murmur of maternal lamentation
  419. Who are those hooded hordes swarming
  420. Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth
  421. Ringed by the flat horizon only
  422. What is the city over the mountains
  423. Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
  424. Falling towers
  425. Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
  426. Vienna London
  427. Unreal
  428.  
  429. A woman drew her long black hair out tight
  430. And fiddled whisper music on those strings
  431. And bats with baby faces in the violet light
  432. Whistled, and beat their wings
  433. And crawled head downward down a blackened wall
  434. And upside down in air were towers
  435. Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
  436. And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.
  437.  
  438. In this decayed hole among the mountains
  439. In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
  440. Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
  441. There is the empty chapel, only the wind’s home.
  442. It has no windows, and the door swings,
  443. Dry bones can harm no one.
  444. Only a cock stood on the rooftree
  445. Co co rico co co rico
  446. In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
  447. Bringing rain
  448.  
  449. Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves
  450. Waited for rain, while the black clouds
  451. Gathered far distant, over Himavant.
  452. The jungle crouched, humped in silence.
  453. Then spoke the thunder
  454. DA
  455. Datta: what have we given?
  456. My friend, blood shaking my heart
  457. The awful daring of a moment’s surrender
  458. Which an age of prudence can never retract
  459. By this, and this only, we have existed
  460. Which is not to be found in our obituaries
  461. Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider
  462. Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
  463. In our empty rooms
  464. DA
  465. Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
  466. Turn in the door once and turn once only
  467. We think of the key, each in his prison
  468. Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
  469. Only at nightfall, aethereal rumours
  470. Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus
  471. DA
  472. Damyata: The boat responded
  473. Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar
  474. The sea was calm, your heart would have responded
  475. Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
  476. To controlling hands
  477.  
  478.                                     I sat upon the shore
  479. Fishing, with the arid plain behind me
  480. Shall I at least set my lands in order?
  481. London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down
  482. Poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina
  483. Quando fiam uti chelidon—O swallow swallow
  484. Le Prince d’Aquitaine à la tour abolie
  485. These fragments I have shored against my ruins
  486. Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo’s mad againe.
  487. Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.
  488.                   Shantih     shantih     shantih
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