Eliot, T. S. 1922. The Waste Land - The Diigo Meta page

• 19 Jun 09
  

  Carolina Caliaba

  ts eliot poetry modernism

  • —Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,  40Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
  • Here is the man with three 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.
  • 21 more annotations...
  • • Unreal City,  60Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many.
    • 'That corpse you planted last year in your garden, 'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? 'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed? 'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men, 'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!  75'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!'
    • In vials of ivory and coloured glass Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,
    • 'I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street 'With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow? 'What shall we ever do?'
    • And if it rains, a closed car at four. And we shall play a game of chess, Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.
    • It's them pills I took, to bring it off, she said. (She's had five already, and nearly died of young George.)
    • Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.
    • THE river's tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. 175Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers, Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; 180Departed, have left no addresses. By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept... Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear 185The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.
    • On a winter evening round behind the gashouse 190Musing upon the king my brother's wreck And on the king my father's death before him.
    • One of the low on whom assurance sits As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.
    • Endeavours to engage her in caresses Which still are unreproved, if undesired.
    • (And I Tiresias have foresuffered all Enacted on this same divan or bed; I who have sat by Thebes below the wall 245And walked among the lowest of the dead.) Bestows on final patronising kiss, And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit...
    • O City city, I can sometimes hear Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street, 260The pleasant whining of a mandoline And a clatter and a chatter from within Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls Of Magnus Martyr hold Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold. 265 
    • A current under sea 315Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell He passed the stages of his age and youth Entering the whirlpool.                           Gentile or Jew O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, 320Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.
    • He who was living is now dead We who were living are now dying
    •   If there were the sound of water only   Not the cicada   And dry grass singing   But sound of water over a rock
    • Who is the third who walks always beside you? When I count, there are only you and I together 360But when I look ahead up the white road There is always another one walking beside you Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded I do not know whether a man or a woman —But who is that on the other side of you?
    • The jungle crouched, humped in silence.
    • We think of the key, each in his prison Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
    • The sea was calm, your heart would have responded 420Gaily, when invited, beating obedient To controlling hands
    • These fragments I have shored against my ruins

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