<---PREV
19 What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
20 Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
21 You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
22 A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
23 And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
24 And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
25 There is shadow under this red rock,
26 (Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
27 And I will show you something different from either
28 Your shadow at morning striding behind you
29 Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
30 I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
31 Frisch weht der Wind
32 Der Heimat zu
33 Mein Irisch Kind,
34 Wo weilest du?
35 'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
36 'They called me the hyacinth girl.'
37 —Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
38 Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
39 Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
40 Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
41 Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
42 Oed’ und leer das Meer.
NEXT--->
