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Little Willow [userpic]

Poetry Friday: The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot (lines 19-30)

February 3rd, 2017 (06:00 am)

Current Mood: determined

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.

- selected lines from The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot

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Posted by: Kay McGriff (kaymcgriff)
Posted at: February 3rd, 2017 07:27 pm (UTC)
long ago

It's been a long time since I'v read The Wasteland. It may be time to revisit.

Posted by: Little Willow (slayground)
Posted at: February 3rd, 2017 07:51 pm (UTC)
Re: long ago

I'll be posting lines from it all month. :)

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