Please enjoy this presentation of the Wasteland by T.S. ELiot. All images are computer generated by Nicolas Bertagnolli using Dalle-2.
april is the cruellest month
breeding lilacs out of the dead land
stirring dull roots with spring rain
covering earth in forgetful snow
feeding a little life with dried tubers
coming over the starnbergersee with a shower of rain
we stopped in the colonnade
and when we were children
and go south in the winter
what are the roots that clutch
what branches grow out of this stony rubbish
for you know only a heap of broken images
and the dead tree gives no shelter
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
frisch weht der wind der heimat zu mein irisch kind
you gave me hyacinths first a year ago
they called me the hyacinth girl
i was neither living nor dead
looking into the heart of light
nevertheless is known to be the wisest woman in europe
with a wicked pack of cards
the drowned phoenician sailor
those are pearls that were his eyes
here is the man with three staves
is something he carries on his back
which i am forbidden to see
i do not find the hanged man
tell her i bring the horoscope myself: one must be so careful these days
under the brown fog of a winter dawn
a crowd flowed over london bridge
i had not thought death had undone so many
and each man fixed his eyes before his feet
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
you who were with me in the ships at mylae
that corpse you planted last year in your garden
or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed
oh keep the dog far hence
or with his nails he’ll dig it up again
where the glass held up by standards wrought with fruited vines
from which a golden cupidon peeped out
another hid his eyes behind his wing
doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra
reflecting light upon the table
as the glitter of her jewels rose to meet it
from satin cases poured in rich profusion
in vials of ivory and coloured glass unstoppered
lurked her strange synthetic perfumes
confused and drowned the sense in odours
stirred by the air that freshened from the window
these ascended in fattening the prolonged candle
flung their smoke into the laquearia
stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling
framed by the coloured stone
in which sad light a carvéd dolphin swam
above the antique mantel was displayed as though a window gave upon the sylvan scene the change of philomel
by the barbarous king so rudely forced
yet there the nightingale filled all the desert with inviolable voice and still she cried
and still the world pursues
and other withered stumps of time were told upon the walls
hushing the room enclosed
footsteps shuffled on the stair
her hair spread out in fiery points glowed into words
then would be savagely still
my nerves are bad tonight
i never know what you are thinking
i think we are in rats’ alley where the dead men lost their bones
i remember those are pearls that were his eyes
is there nothing in your head
but o o o o that shakespeherian rag it’s so elegant so intelligent what shall i do now
and walk the street with my hair down
what shall we do tomorrow
and we shall play a game of chess
pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door
when lil’s husband got demobbed
i said— i didn’t mince my words
hurry up please its time now albert’s coming back
make yourself a bit smart
he’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave you to get yourself some teeth
i can’t bear to look at you
he’s been in the army four years
and if you don’t give it him
then i’ll know who to thank
and give me a straight look
hurry up please its time if you don’t like it you can get on with it
others can pick and choose if you can’t
it won’t be for lack of telling
and nearly died of young george
the chemist said it would be all right
but i’ve never been the same
if albert won’t leave you alone
what you get married for if you don’t want children
hurry up please its time well
that sunday albert was home
and they asked me in to dinner
to get the beauty of it hot— hurry up please its time hurry up please its time goonight bill
the river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf clutch and sink into the wet bank
the wind crosses the brown land
the river bears no empty bottles
cigarette ends or other testimony of summer nights
the loitering heirs of city directors
by the waters of leman i sat down and wept
run softly till i end my song
for i speak not loud or long
but at my back in a cold blast i hear the rattle of the bones
and chuckle spread from ear to ear
a rat crept softly through the vegetation
dragging its slimy belly on the bank
while i was fishing in the dull canal on a winter evening
round behind the gashouse
musing upon the king my brother’s wreck and on the king my father’s death before him
white bodies naked on the low damp ground and bones cast in a little low dry garret
rattled by the rat’s foot only
but at my back from time to time i hear the sound of horns and motors
which shall bring sweeney to mrs
o the moon shone bright on mrs
porter and on her daughter they wash their feet in soda water et o ces voix d’enfants
twit twit twit jug jug jug jug jug jug so rudely forc’d
unreal city under the brown fog of a winter noon mr
the smyrna merchant unshaven
with a pocket full of currants c
london: documents at sight
asked me in demotic french to luncheon at the cannon street hotel followed by a weekend at the metropole
when the eyes and back turn upward from the desk
when the human engine waits like a taxi throbbing waiting
throbbing between two lives
old man with wrinkled female breasts
can see at the violet hour
the evening hour that strives homeward
and brings the sailor home from sea
the typist home at teatime
and lays out food in tins
out of the window perilously spread her drying combinations touched by the sun’s last rays
on the divan are piled at night her bed stockings
old man with wrinkled dugs perceived the scene
and foretold the rest— i too awaited the expected guest
the young man carbuncular
a small house agent’s clerk
one of the low on whom assurance sits as a silk hat on a bradford millionaire
the time is now propitious
endeavours to engage her in caresses which still are unreproved
exploring hands encounter no defence
his vanity requires no response
and makes a welcome of indifference
and i tiresias have foresuffered all enacted on this same divan or bed
i who have sat by thebes below the wall and walked among the lowest of the dead
bestows one final patronising kiss
she turns and looks a moment in the glass
hardly aware of her departed lover
her brain allows one half
when lovely woman stoops to folly and paces about her room again
she smoothes her hair with automatic hand
and puts a record on the gramophone
this music crept by me upon the waters and along the strand
i can sometimes hear beside a public bar in lower thames street
the pleasant whining of a mandoline and a clatter and a chatter from within where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls of magnus martyr hold inexplicable splendour of ionian white and gold
the river sweats oil and tar the barges drift with the turning tide red sails wide to leeward
the barges wash drifting logs down greenwich reach past the isle of dogs
weialala leia wallala leialala
weialala leia wallala leialala
richmond and kew undid me
by richmond i raised my knees supine on the floor of a narrow canoe
and my heart under my feet
i can connect nothing with nothing
the broken fingernails of dirty hands
my people humble people who expect nothing
burning burning burning burning o lord thou pluckest me out o lord thou pluckest
and the deep sea swell and the profit and loss
a current under sea picked his bones in whispers
as he rose and fell he passed the stages of his age and youth entering the whirlpool
gentile or jew o you who turn the wheel and look to windward
who was once handsome and tall as you
after the torchlight red on sweaty faces
after the frosty silence in the gardens
after the agony in stony places
the shouting and the crying
prison and palace and reverberation
of thunder of spring over distant mountains
he who was living is now dead
we who were living are now dying
if there were the sound of water only
but sound of water over a rock
drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
who is the third who walks always beside you
there are only you and i together but when i look ahead up the white road there is always another one walking beside you gliding wrapt in a brown mantle
hooded i do not know whether a man or a woman —but who is that on the other side of you
what is that sound high in the air murmur of maternal lamentation who are those hooded hordes swarming over endless plains
stumbling in cracked earth ringed by the flat horizon only what is the city over the mountains cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air falling towers jerusalem athens alexandria vienna london unreal
a woman drew her long black hair out tight and fiddled whisper music on those strings and bats with baby faces in the violet light whistled
and beat their wings and crawled head downward down a blackened wall and upside down in air were towers tolling reminiscent bells
that kept the hours and voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells
in this decayed hole among the mountains in the faint moonlight
the grass is singing over the tumbled graves
about the chapel there is the empty chapel
dry bones can harm no one
only a cock stood on the rooftree co co rico co co rico
then a damp gust bringing rain
and the limp leaves waited for rain
while the black clouds gathered far distant
then spoke the thunder da datta: what have we given
blood shaking my heart the awful daring of a moment’s surrender which an age of prudence can never retract by this
which is not to be found in our obituaries
or in memories draped by the beneficent spider
or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
dayadhvam: i have heard the key
turn in the door once and turn once only
revive for a moment a broken coriolanus
damyata: the boat responded
gaily to the hand expert with sail and oar
your heart would have responded gaily
beating obedient to controlling hands
i sat upon the shore fishing
with the arid plain behind me shall i at least set my lands in order
london bridge is falling down falling down falling down poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina quando fiam uti chelidon—o swallow swallow le prince d’aquitaine à la tour abolie these fragments i have shored against my ruins why then ile fit you