T. S. Eliot

The Waste Land

Fragment

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, only the wind’s home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the rooftree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain”
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‘My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
‘Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.
‘What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
‘I never know what you are thinking. Think.’
I think we are in rats’ alley
Where the dead men lost their bones.
‘What is that noise?’
The wind under the door.
‘What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?’
Nothing again nothing.
‘Do
‘You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember
‘Nothing?’
I remember
Those are pearls that were his eyes.
‘Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?’
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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, where the 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,
(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.

Corina Onofrei

T. S. Eliot

The Waste Land

Fragment

In groapa asta putrezita dintre munti
In palida lumin-a lunii, iarba canta
Deasupra rascolitelor morminte, pe langa capela
E doar capela goala, vantului casa numai.
N-are ferestre, si-usa se leagana-n gol,
Oasele-uscate nu mai pot rani
Doar un cocos statea pe-o grinda
Cucurigu
In lumina unui fulger. Apoi, vant
Aducand ploaie.
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“Am nervii la pamant in seara asta. Da, la pamant. Ramai cu mine.
Vorbeste-mi. De ce nu vorbesti niciodata? Vorbeste.
La ce te gandesti? Ce ganduri? Ce?
Niciodata nu stiu ce gandesti. Gandeste.”
“Ma gandesc ca suntem pe aleea sobolanilor,
Unde mortii si-au pierdut oasele.”
“Ce e zgomotul ala?”
“Vantul sub usa.”
“Ce e zgomotul ala de acum? Ce face vantul?”
“Nimic din nou, nimic. “
“Tu,
“Nu stii nimic? Nu vezi nimic? Nu-ti
amintesti
“Nimic?”
“Imi amintesc
Astea sunt perlele ce-odata i-erau ochi.”
“Esti viu sau nu? Nu e nimic in mintea ta?”

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Ce-s radacinile ce-apuca, ce ramuri cresc
Din 'cest gunoi stancos?Urmas al omului,

Nu poti nici spune, nici ghici, caci tot ce stii
E-un teanc de sparte-imagini-n bataia soarelui,
Si-unde copacul mort nu da vreun adapost, greierul nici o alinare,
Iar piatra seaca nu suna a curs de apa. Doar
Acolo e umbra, sub aceasta piatra rosie,
(vino sub umbra acestei pietre rosii),
Si am sa iti arat ceva diferit de

Umbra ce merge spatele tau dimineata sau
De umbra care te intampina seara;
Si vei vedea frica intr-un pumn de cenusa.