excerpt from The Waste Land

by T.S.Eliot




I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD


April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.

Comments

  1. So appropriate, so beautiful, so true. Gorgeous photo of lilacs! Ours are also blooming, aroma is unforgettable.

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  2. that's always been a favourite of mine...

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  3. I am so looking forward to the lilacs.

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  4. Beautiful photo....
    I can almost smell it....
    Smiles!

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  5. No one...and I mean NO ONE...can write the hell out of a plain line like Eliot. See Prufrock's refrain "I grow old, I grow old" for proof of that. Sigh. Hard to believe he also wrote kitty cat poems. (I forgive him that.)

    Also, his line break is genius.

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  6. I was just thinking of how tiring these April showers are becoming. No lilacs yet, but I did see a crocus pop above the soil.

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  7. Desperately seeking lilacs here, "mixing/Memory and desire" indeed. Thanks.

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  8. Yes, cruel April indeed! At least you provided a picture of lilacs.

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  9. Oh, this is another one of my favorites!

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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