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Old 04-14-2015, 02:49 PM   #8
The Poet
Il megglior fabbro
 
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Join Date: Jun 2009
First Name: Thomas
Location: Hickory, NC
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Default Re: The Riches of Spring

The Waste Land
By T. S. Eliot

FOR EZRA POUND
IL MIGLIOR FABBRO
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.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And 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-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
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