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39 lines
178 KiB
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<FictionBook xmlns="http://www.gribuser.ru/xml/fictionbook/2.0" xmlns:l="http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink"><description><title-info><genre>unrecognised</genre><author><first-name>T.S.</first-name><last-name>Eliot</last-name></author><book-title>The Waste Land</book-title><date>2011-09-01</date></title-info><document-info><program-used>pandoc</program-used></document-info></description><body><title><p>The Waste Land</p></title><section><p><image l:href="#image1" l:type="inlineImageType" alt="" /></p><p /></section><section id="i.-the-burial-of-the-dead"><title><p>I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD</p></title><p>April is the cruellest month, breeding</p><p>Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing</p><p>Memory and desire, stirring</p><p>Dull roots with spring rain.</p><p>Winter kept us warm, covering</p><p>Earth in forgetful snow, feeding</p><p>A little life with dried tubers.</p><p>Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee</p><p>With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,</p><p>And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,10</p><p>And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.</p><p>Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.</p><p>And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,</p><p>My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,</p><p>And I was frightened. He said, Marie,</p><p>Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.</p><p>In the mountains, there you feel free.</p><p>I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.</p><p>What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow</p><p>Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,<a l:href="#n1" type="note"><sup>[1]</sup></a></p><p>You cannot say, or guess, for you know only</p><p>A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,</p><p>And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,<a l:href="#n2" type="note"><sup>[2]</sup></a></p><p>And the dry stone no sound of water. Only</p><p>There is shadow under this red rock,</p><p>(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),</p><p>And I will show you something different from either</p><p>Your shadow at morning striding behind you</p><p>Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;</p><p>I will show you fear in a handful of dust.30</p><cite><cite><p>Frisch weht der Wind<a l:href="#n3" type="note"><sup>[3]</sup></a></p></cite><cite><p>Der Heimat zu</p></cite><cite><p>Mein Irisch Kind,</p></cite><cite><p>Wo weilest du?</p></cite><cite><p>"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;</p></cite><cite><p>"They called me the hyacinth girl."</p></cite><cite><p>―Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,</p></cite><cite><p>Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not</p></cite><cite><p>Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither</p></cite><cite><p>Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,40</p></cite><cite><p>Looking into the heart of light, the silence.</p></cite><cite><p><emphasis>Od' und leer das Meer</emphasis>.<a l:href="#n4" type="note"><sup>[4]</sup></a></p></cite><cite><p>Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,</p></cite><cite><p>Had a bad cold, nevertheless</p></cite><cite><p>Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,</p></cite><cite><p>With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,<a l:href="#n5" type="note"><sup>[5]</sup></a></p></cite><cite><p>Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,</p></cite><cite><p>(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)</p></cite><cite><p>Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,</p></cite><cite><p>The lady of situations.50</p></cite><cite><p>Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,</p></cite><cite><p>And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,</p></cite><cite><p>Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,</p></cite><cite><p>Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find</p></cite><cite><p>The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.</p></cite><cite><p>I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.</p></cite><cite><p>Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,</p></cite><cite><p>Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:</p></cite><cite><p>One must be so careful these days.</p></cite><cite><p>Unreal City,<a l:href="#n6" type="note"><sup>[6]</sup></a
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Ou le spectre en plein jour raccroche le passant."</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n7"><title><p>7</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln63">63.</a> Cf. Inferno, iii. 55-7.</p><cite><cite><p>"si lunga tratta
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di gente, ch'io non avrei mai creduto
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che morte tanta n'avesse disfatta."</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n8"><title><p>8</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln64">64.</a> Cf. Inferno, iv. 25-7:</p><cite><cite><p>"Quivi, secondo che per ascoltahre,
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"non avea pianto, ma' che di sospiri,
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"che l'aura eterna facevan tremare."</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n9"><title><p>9</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln68">68.</a> A phenomenon which I have often noticed.</p></section><section id="n10"><title><p>10</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln74">74.</a> Cf. the Dirge in Webster's White Devil .</p></section><section id="n11"><title><p>11</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln76">76.</a> V. Baudelaire, Preface to Fleurs du Mal.</p></section><section id="n12"><title><p>12</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln77">77.</a> Cf. Antony and Cleopatra, II. ii., l. 190.</p></section><section id="n13"><title><p>13</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln92">92.</a> Laquearia. V. Aeneid, I. 726:</p><cite><cite><p>dependent lychni laquearibus aureis incensi, et noctem flammis
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funalia vincunt.</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n14"><title><p>14</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln98">98.</a> Sylvan scene. V. Milton, Paradise Lost, iv. 140.</p></section><section id="n15"><title><p>15</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln99">99.</a> V. Ovid, Metamorphoses, vi, Philomela.</p></section><section id="n16"><title><p>16</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln100">100.</a> Cf. Part III, l. 204.</p></section><section id="n17"><title><p>17</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln115">115.</a> Cf. Part III, l. 195.</p></section><section id="n18"><title><p>18</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln118">118.</a> Cf. Webster:</p><cite><cite><p>"Is the wind in that door still?"</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n19"><title><p>19</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln126">126.</a> Cf. Part I, l. 37, 48.</p></section><section id="n20"><title><p>20</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln138">138.</a> Cf. the game of chess in Middleton's Women beware Women.</p></section><section id="n21"><title><p>21</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln176">176.</a> V. Spenser, Prothalamion.</p></section><section id="n22"><title><p>22</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln192">192.</a> Cf. The Tempest, I. ii.</p></section><section id="n23"><title><p>23</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln196">196.</a> Cf. Marvell, To His Coy Mistress.</p></section><section id="n24"><title><p>24</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln197">197.</a> Cf. Day, Parliament of Bees:</p><cite><cite><cite><p>"When of the sudden, listening, you shall hear,</p></cite></cite><cite><cite><p>"A noise of horns and hunting, which shall bring</p></cite></cite><cite><cite><p>"Actaeon to Diana in the spring,</p></cite></cite><cite><cite><p>"Where all shall see her naked skin . . ."</p></cite></cite></cite></section><section id="n25"><title><p>25</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln199">199.</a> I do not know the origin of the ballad from which these lines are taken: it was reported to me from Sydney, Australia.</p></section><section id="n26"><title><p>26</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln202">202.</a> V. Verlaine, Parsifal.</p></section><section id="n27"><title><p>27</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln210">210.</a> The currants were quoted at a price "cost insurance and freight to London"; and the Bill of Lading etc. were to be handed to the buyer upon payment of the sight draft.</p></section><section id="n28"><title><p>28</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln218">218.</a> Tiresias, although a mere spectator and not indeed a "character," is yet the most important personage in the poem, uniting all the rest. Just as the one-eyed merchant, seller of currants, melts into the Phoenician Sailor, and the latter is not wholly distinct from Ferdinand Prince of Naples, so all the women are one woman, and the two sexes meet in Tiresias. What Tiresias sees, in fact, is the substance of the poem. The whole passage from Ovid is of great anthropological interest:</p><cite><cite><p>'. . . Cum Iunone iocos et maior vestra profecto est
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Quam, quae contingit maribus,' dixisse, 'voluptas.'
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Illa negat; placuit quae sit sententia docti
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Quaerere Tiresiae: venus huic erat utraque nota.
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Nam duo magnorum viridi coeuntia silva
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Corpora serpentum baculi violaverat ictu
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Deque viro factus, mirabile, femina septem
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Egerat autumnos; octavo rursus eosdem
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Vidit et 'est vestrae si tanta potentia plagae,'
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Dixit 'ut auctoris sortem in contraria mutet,
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Nunc quoque vos feriam!' percussis anguibus isdem
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Forma prior rediit genetivaque venit imago.
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Arbiter hic igitur sumptus de lite iocosa
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Dicta Iovis firmat; gravius Saturnia iusto
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Nec pro materia fertur doluisse suique
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Iudicis aeterna damnavit lumina nocte,
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At pater omnipotens (neque enim licet inrita cuiquam
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Facta dei fecisse deo) pro lumine adempto
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Scire futura dedit poenamque levavit honore.</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n29"><title><p>29</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln221">221.</a> This may not appear as exact as Sappho's lines, but I had in mind the "longshore" or "dory" fisherman, who returns at nightfall.</p></section><section id="n30"><title><p>30</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln253">253.</a> V. Goldsmith, the song in The Vicar of Wakefield.</p></section><section id="n31"><title><p>31</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln257">257.</a> V. The Tempest, as above.</p></section><section id="n32"><title><p>32</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln264">264.</a> The interior of St. Magnus Martyr is to my mind one of the finest among Wren's interiors. See The Proposed Demolition of Nineteen City Churches (P. S. King & Son, Ltd.).</p></section><section id="n33"><title><p>33</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln266">266.</a> The Song of the (three) Thames-daughters begins here. From line 292 to 306 inclusive they speak in turn. V. Gutterdsammerung, III. i: the Rhine-daughters.</p></section><section id="n34"><title><p>34</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln279">279.</a> V. Froude, Elizabeth, Vol. I, ch. iv, letter of De Quadra to Philip of Spain:</p><cite><cite><cite><p>"In the afternoon we were in a barge, watching the games on the river.</p></cite></cite><cite><cite><p>(The queen) was alone with Lord Robert and myself on the poop,</p></cite></cite><cite><cite><p>when they began to talk nonsense, and went so far that Lord Robert</p></cite></cite><cite><cite><p>at last said, as I was on the spot there was no reason why they</p></cite></cite><cite><cite><p>should not be married if the queen pleased."</p></cite></cite></cite></section><section id="n35"><title><p>35</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln293">293.</a> Cf. Purgatorio, v. 133:</p><cite><cite><p>"Ricorditi di me, che son la Pia;
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Siena mi fe', disfecemi Maremma."</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n36"><title><p>36</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln307">307.</a> V. St. Augustine's Confessions: "to Carthage then I came, where a cauldron of unholy loves sang all about mine ears."</p></section><section id="n37"><title><p>37</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln308">308.</a> The complete text of the Buddha's Fire Sermon (which corresponds in importance to the Sermon on the Mount) from which these words are taken, will be found translated in the late Henry Clarke Warren's Buddhism in Translation (Harvard Oriental Series). Mr. Warren was one of the great pioneers of Buddhist studies in the Occident.</p></section><section id="n38"><title><p>38</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln309">309.</a> From St. Augustine's Confessions again. The collocation of these two representatives of eastern and western asceticism, as the culmination of this part of the poem, is not an accident.</p></section><section id="n39"><title><p>39</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln357">357.</a> This is Turdus aonalaschkae pallasii, the hermit-thrush which I have heard in Quebec County. Chapman says (Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America) "it is most at home in secluded woodland and thickety retreats. . . . Its notes are not remarkable for variety or volume, but in purity and sweetness of tone and exquisite modulation they are unequalled." Its "water-dripping song" is justly celebrated.</p></section><section id="n40"><title><p>40</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln360">360.</a> The following lines were stimulated by the account of one of the Antarctic expeditions (I forget which, but I think one of Shackleton's): it was related that the party of explorers, at the extremity of their strength, had the constant delusion that there was one more member than could actually be counted.</p></section><section id="n41"><title><p>41</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln367">367-77.</a> Cf. Hermann Hesse, Blick ins Chaos:</p><cite><cite><p>"Schon ist halb Europa, schon ist zumindest der halbe Osten Europas auf dem
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Wege zum Chaos, fhrt betrunken im heiligem Wahn am Abgrund entlang
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und singt dazu, singt betrunken und hymnisch wie Dmitri Karamasoff sang.
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Ueber diese Lieder lacht der Bsrger beleidigt, der Heilige
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und Seher hrt sie mit Trvnen."</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n42"><title><p>42</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln402">402.</a> “"Datta, dayadhvam, damyata"” (Give, sympathize, control). The fable of the meaning of the Thunder is found in the Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad, 5, 1. A translation is found in Deussen's Sechzig Upanishads des Veda, p. 489.</p></section><section id="n43"><title><p>43</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln408">408.</a> Cf. Webster, The White Devil, v. vi:</p><cite><cite><p>". . . they'll remarry
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Ere the worm pierce your winding-sheet, ere the spider
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Make a thin curtain for your epitaphs."</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n44"><title><p>44</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln412">412.</a> Cf. Inferno, xxxiii. 46:</p><cite><cite><p>"ed io sentii chiavar l'uscio di sotto
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all'orribile torre."</p></cite></cite><p>Also F. H. Bradley, Appearance and Reality, p. 346:</p><cite><cite><p>"My external sensations are no less private to myself than are my thoughts or my feelings. In either case my experience falls within my own circle, a circle closed on the outside; and, with all its elements alike, every sphere is opaque to the others which surround it. . . . In brief, regarded as an existence which appears in a soul, the whole world for each is peculiar and private to that soul."</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n45"><title><p>45</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln425">425.</a> V. Weston, From Ritual to Romance; chapter on the Fisher King.</p></section><section id="n46"><title><p>46</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln428">428.</a> V. Purgatorio, xxvi. 148.</p><cite><cite><p>"'Ara vos prec per aquella valor
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'que vos guida al som de l'escalina,
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'sovegna vos a temps de ma dolor.'
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Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affina."</p></cite></cite></section><section id="n47"><title><p>47</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln429">429.</a> V. Pervigilium Veneris. Cf. Philomela in Parts II and III.</p></section><section id="n48"><title><p>48</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln430">430.</a> V. Gerard de Nerval, Sonnet El Desdichado.</p></section><section id="n49"><title><p>49</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln432">432.</a> V. Kyd's Spanish Tragedy.</p></section><section id="n50"><title><p>50</p></title><p><a l:href="#wasteland-content.xhtml#ln434">434.</a> Shantih. Repeated as here, a formal ending to an Upanishad. 'The Peace which passeth understanding' is a feeble translation of the content of this word.</p></section></body><binary id="image1" content-type="image/jpeg">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