My Senior Gift Pictorally: To Think About


"The Wasteland"


....Waited for rain, while the black clouds
Gathered far distant, over Himavant.
The jungle crouched, humped in silence.
Then spoke the thunder
DA
 Datta: what have we given?
My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment's surrender
Which an age of prudence can never retract
By this, and this only, we have existed
Which is not to be found in our obituaries
Or in memoirs draped by the beneficent spider
Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
In our empty rooms
DA
 Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
Only at nightfall, aethereal rumours
Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus
DA
 Damyata: The boat responded
Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar
The sea was calm, your heart would have responded
Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
To controlling hands
From The Wasteland and other Poems by T.S. Eliot. Copyrighted 1958, 1962. pg 45.





Last Modified: 13 October 2006 EST