sábado, 9 de agosto de 2014

The Wasteland

"Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidiin ampulla pendere,  
et cum illi pueri dicerent:Σιβυλλα τι θελεις; respondebat illa: αποθανειν θελω.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.


   - T.S Eliot -The Wasteland -

Pencil on Paper


  For the full poem read by Eliot himself:



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