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T.S. Eliot (1888–1965).  The Waste Land.  1922. 

The Waste Land 

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 |          5 |
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding |   |
A little life with dried tubers. |   |
Summersurprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee |   |
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, |   |
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, |   10 |
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 archduke’s, |   |
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled, |   |
And Iwas frightened. He said, Marie, |   15 |
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. |   |
  | |
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow |   |
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, |   20 |
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only |   |
A heap of broken images, wherethe 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, |   25 |
(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. |   30 |
        Frisch weht der Wind |   |
        Der Heimat zu, |   |
        Mein Irisch Kind, |   |
        Wo weilest du? |   |
“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; |   35 |
They called me the hyacinth girl.” |   |
—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, |   40 |
Looking into the heart of light, the silence. |   |
Öd’ und leer das Meer. |   |
  | |
Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante, |   |
Had a bad cold, nevertheless |   |
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe, |   45 |
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she, |   |
Is your card,the drowned Phoenician Sailor, |   |
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!) |   |
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, |   |
The lady of situations. |   50 |
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. I do notfind |   |
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water. |   55 |
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring. |   |
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone, |   |
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself: |   |
One must be so careful these days. |   |
  | |
Unreal City, |   60 |
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, |   |
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, |   |
I had notthought death had undone so many. |   |
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, |   |
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet. |   65 |
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street, |   |
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours |   |
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine. |   |
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying “Stetson! |   |
You who were with me inthe ships at Mylae! |   70 |
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!” |   |
  | |
II. A GAME OF CHESS...