You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; They called me the hyacinth girl. At the end of the day, time passes as each morning and night goes by, and when all's said and done, you're going to die just like everyone else. Alfred Prufrock that the living people Eliot finds in the modern world closely resemble Dante's souls in the cosmos. Son of man, 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. It is important to know that at the time of writ ting this poem, Eliot was experiencing nervousness and his marriage has was a complicated matter. Lines 5-7 Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried. Lines 31-34 Frisch weht der Wind Der Heimat zu Mein Irisch Kind Wo weilest du? Musing upon the king my brothers wreck And on the king my fathers death before him.
The spring rain might usually yield new life, but for you the dull roots have no possibility for life. Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. This kind of faith-based stability is exactly what the modern world lacks in Eliot's eyes. Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante, Had a bad cold, nevertheless Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe, With a wicked pack of cards. Unreal City, Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. Lines 1-4 April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. The were a group of people from around 1,000 B.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. The chemist said it would be alright, but Ive never been the same. I think we are in rats alley Where the dead men lost their bones. Lines 8-12 Summer surprised us, coming over the With a shower of rain; we stopped in the , And went on in sunlight, into the , And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. It was at Harvard where he met his guide and mentor Ezra Pound, a well-known modernist poet.
The poem criticizes modern society by frequently alluding to fictional paradises while contrasting them with experiences of transient speakers. A phenomenon which I have often noticed. My nerves are bad to-night. O the moon shone bright on Mrs. What shall we do to-morrow? We're shaking in our Shmoop boots over here shmoots? Porter And on her daughter They wash their feet in soda water Et, O ces voix denfants, chantant dans la coupole! Eliot progresses to the idea of rebirth arising from death and decay. To know what hell, what death is like, and to experience it over and over again, Persophone could no longer be the gay maiden she once was. You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! Oh keep the Dog far hence, thats friend to men, Or with his nails hell dig it up again! I do not find The Hanged Man.
Goldsmith, the song in The Vicar of Wakefield. In brief, regarded as an existence which appears in a soul, the whole world for each is peculiar and private to that soul. . Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed? I had not thought death had undone so many. See The Proposed Demolition of Nineteen City Churches: P. Hell want to know what you done with that money he gave you To get yourself some teeth.
The hot water at ten. Maybe they should take a zombie self-actualization course at the local Zen center. Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed? And they went on swanky vacays to boot. My friend, blood shaking my heart The awful daring of a moments 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 memories draped by the beneficent spider Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor In our empty rooms D A 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, aetherial rumours Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus D A 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 I sat upon the shore Fishing, with the arid plain behind me Shall I at least set my lands in order? In 1902 it was the scene of the fatal stabbing of Arthur Reginald Baker by his lover , at an entrance to the Lombard Street post office which at that time was located on King William Street. Hermann Hesse, Blick ins Chaos: Schon ist halb Europa, schon ist zumindest der halbe Osten Europas auf dem Wege zum Chaos, fährt betrunken im heiligem Wahn am Abgrund entlang und singt dazu, singt betrunken und hymnisch wie Dmitri Karamasoff sang.
O City City, 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. King William Street then continues south into. What shall we ever do? At the end of the day, time passes with each morning and night, and you're going to die, just like everyone else. Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers. Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, 10 And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Richmond and Kew Undid me. It flowed into the station, and through the stationers. I remember Those are pearls that were his eyes. Here, said she, Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor, Those are pearls that were his eyes. Variant rhythmic couplet transcends Eliot's idea of a fragmented cultural reality that has moved from tradition to modern intellect and emotion. Something o that, I said. Bestows one final patronizing kiss, And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit She turns and looks a moment in the glass, Hardly aware of her departed lover; Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass: Well now thats done: and Im glad its over.
Son of man, by the way, is a phrase commonly used in the Bible. Kind of like swans: so pretty, but so very mean. At the time he wrote this section, Eliot was working for a bank in the City. Every year Persophone rises again from the underworld to know that after a few months she will be sent back to hell again. This book no doubt inspired Eliot not only because of its subject matter, but because of the sheer detail that Dante uses to describe hell, thus giving his religious beliefs a complex, yet cohesive sense of order and stability.