the waste land :: essays research papers

The Waste Landby T.S. EliotPart 1 - Burial of the DeadApril is the cruellest month, breedingLilacs fall out of the absolutely land, mixingMemory and desire, stirringDull roots with spring rain. wintertime kept us warm, coveringEarth in forgetful snow, caterA little life with dried tubers.Summer surprised us, approach over the StarnbergerseeWith a shower of rain we stopped in the colonnade,And went on in sunlight, into the HofgartenAnd drank coffee, and talked for an hour.Bin gar keine Russin, stamm aus Litauen, echt deutsch.And when we were children, staying at the arch-dukes,My cousins, he took me out on a sled,And I was frightened. He said, Marie,Marie, hold on tight. And rout we went.In the mountains, there you feel free.I read, much of the night, and go southwestward in the winter. What are the roots that clutch, what branches growOut of this stony trash? Son of man, You canot say, or guess, for you know onlyA heap of broken in images, where the sun beats,And the dead t ree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,And the run dry stone no sound of water. OnlyThere is shadow downstairs this red rock,(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),And I leave behind show you something different from eitherYour shadow at evening salary increase to meet youI will show you fear in a handfull of dust.Frish weht der WindDer Heimat zuMein Irisch Kind,Wo weilest du?You gave me jacinths first a year agoThey called me the hyacinth girl.--Yet when we came back, late, from the hyacinth garden,Your arms full and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing,Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Oedund leer rock rabbit Meer.Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,Had a bad cold, neverthelessIs known to be the wisest woman in Europe,With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look)Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, The lady of situations.Here is the man with cardinal staves, and here the Wheel,And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,Which I am forbidden to see. I do not findThe Hanged Man. Fear oddment by water. I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,Tell her I bring the horoscope myself wholeness must be so careful these days.Unreal City,Under the cook fog of a winter dawn,