Eliot - Pusta Zemlja

7/30/2019 Eliot - Pusta Zemlja

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PUSTA ZEMLJA1

„Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent;Ξιβ νλλα τι 0ελειξ; respondebat illaαποΟα νειν 0ελω.

Za Ezru Paunda,koji je il miglior fabbro

I SAHRANA MRTVACA

April je najsvirepiji mesec, što gajiJorgovan iz mrtvog tla, mešaUspomenu i žudnju, podstičeTromo korenje prolećnom kišom.Zima nas je grejala, pokrivajućiZemlju nehajnim snegom, hranećiTo malo života suvim gomoljima.Leto nas iznenadi, dolaskom preko StarnbergerseeUz pljusak kiše; zastasmo u kolonadi,A nastavismo put po suncu, u Hofgarten 10Pa smo pili kafu i razgovarali čitav sat.Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.2

A kad smo bili deca, u gostima kod nadvojvode,Moga rođaka, poveo me je na sankanje,A ja se bojala. Marie, rekao je,Marie, drži se čvrsto. I odosmo nizbrdo.Planine, u njima se čovek oseća slobodno.Čitam duboko u noć, a zimi odem na jug.

Kakvo se to korenje hvata, kakvo granje raste

Iz ovog kamenog darmara? Sine čovečji,

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20 Ne možeš reći, ni pogoditi, jer poznaješ samoHrpu razlupanih slika, gde sunce udara,A mrtvo drvo ne pruža zaklon, ni cvrčak olakšanje,4

Ni suvi kamen vode šum. JedinoIma senke ispod ove crvene stene,(Uđi u senku ove crvene stene),I pokazaću ti nešto različitoOd tvoje jutarnje senke što za tobom se vučeIl tvoje večernje senke što ustaje ti u susret.Pokazaću ti strah u pregršti praha. 30

Frisch weht der Wind 5

Der Heimat zu. Mein Irisch Kind,Wo weilest du?

1 Ne samo na naslov, nego na osnovu i dobar deo uzgredne simbolike ove pesme navela me je knjiga gospođiceJessie L. Weston o legendi o Gralu: Frotn Ritual to Romance (Kembridž). Zaista, moj dug knjizi gospođiceWeston toliki je, da sama knjiga razjašnjava poteškoće u pesmi mnogo bolje nego što to mogu učiniti mojenapomene; ja je preporučujem (nezavisno od velike zanimljivosti same knjige) svima koji smatraju da je takvorazjašnjenje vredno truda. Dugujem, u opštijem smislu, još jednom delu iz antropologije, delu koje je dubokouticalo na našu generaciju; mislim na Zlatnu granu. Naročito sam se koristio poglavljima Adonis, Atis, Oziris.Svako kome su poznata ta dela odmah će u mojoj pesmi prepoznati izvesne aluzije na obrede vegetacije.2 Nisam Ruskinja, dolazim iz Litvanije, prava Nijemica3 20. up. Jezekilj, II, 14 23. up. Propovjednik, XII, 55 31. v. Tristan und Isolde, I, stihovi 5-8 Svježe puše vjetar / našoj domovini / moje irsko dijete / gdje si sada?

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»Dao si mi zumbule prvi put pre godinu dana,Zvali su me devojka sa zumbulima.«- No kad smo se vratili, kasno, iz Vrta zumbula,Ti punih ruku i mokre kose, nisam smogao Ni reči, oči me izdale, nisam bio Ni živ ni mrtav, i ništa nisam znao, 40Zagledan u srce svetlosti, tišinu.Od' und leer das Meer.6

Madame Sosostris, čuvena clairvovanteBeše strašno nazebla; svejedno,Poznata je kao najmudrija žena u Evropi,Sa zlobnim špilom karata. Ovo je, reče, 7

Vaša karta, utopljeni Feničanski mornar,(Ti biseri mu behu oči. Gledajte!)Ovo je Beladona, Gospa od Litica,Gospa od Situacija.

Ovo je čovek s tri dužice, a ovo Točak,A ovo jednooki trgovac, a ova karta,Prazna, nešto je što on nosi na leđima,A ja to ne smem da vidim. Ne nalazim tuObešenog čoveka. Bojte se smrti od vode.Vidim gomile ljudi, koračaju u krugu.Hvala. Ako vidite dragu gđu EkvitonRecite joj sama budem donela horoskop.Čovek mora danas biti tako oprezan. Nestvarni grade,8 60Pod mrkom maglom zimskog svitanja,Gomila struji Londonskim mostom, toliko ljudi,

Ne bih pomislio da smrt je razorila toliko ljudi.9

Uzdasi kratki i retki čuli su se,10

I svako je uporno gledao preda se.Strujali su uzbrdo, pa niz King William StreetDo mesta gde Sveta Marija Vulnot izbija sateSa mrtvim zvukom kada konačno odbije devet.Tu spazih poznanika, zaustavili ga, viknuh: »Stetsone!11

Ti koji beše sa mnom na brodovima kod Mile! 70Da li je leš što si ga lane posadio u bašti

6 42. isto, III, stih 247 46. Nije mi poznat tačan sastav špila karata za Tarok, od kojeg sam očigledno odstupio da bih ga prilagodio

svojim namerama. Obešeni čovek, koji spada u tradicionalni špil, odgovara mi na dva načina; ja ga u duhu povezujem sa Frejzerovim Obešenim bogom, a povezujem ga i sa figurom pod ogrtačem u odlomku o pu-tovanjuučenika u Emaus, u V delu. Feničanski mornar i Trgovac javljaju se kasnije; takođe i »gomile ljudi-', a Smrt od vode nalazise u IV delu. Čoveka sa tri dužice (autentičnu figuru u špilu za tarok) povezujem, sasvim proizvoljno, sa samim Kraljemribarom.8 60. up. Bodler -»Fourmillante cite, cite pleine de reves,Ou le spectre en plein jour raccroche le passant.«9 63. up. Pakao, III, 55-57:»...si lunga trattadi gente, ch'io non avrei mai credutoche morte tanta n'avesse disfatta.«10 64. up. Pakao, IV, 25-27:»Quivi, secondo che per ascoltare,

non avea pianto, ma' che di sospiri,che l'aura eterna facevan tremare.«11 68. Pojava koju sam često primećivao.

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Počeo da klija? Hoće li cvetati ove godine?Ili mu je nagli mraz zasmetao?O ne pripuštaj blizu Psa, prijatelj je ljudima,12

Inače će ga opet noktima da iskopa!Ti! hvpocrite lecteur! - mon semblable, - mon frere!«13

II PARTIJA ŠAHA

Stolica gde je sedela, ko poliran presto,14

U mermeru je sjala, gde zrcaloS rezbarijom rama, ogrozdanom lozomIz koje viri zlatan Kupidon 80(Iza krila mu drugi krije oči)Udvaja plamen svećnjaka sedmokrakihI baca odsjaj na sto, gde ga srećeBlistanje njenog nakita, iz punihSatenskih kutija raskošno rasutog;

U bočicama od slonovače i obojenog staklaBez čepa, vrebali su njeni čudni sintetski parfemi,Masti, tečnosti, prašci - da uzbude, zbune,U miris utope svest; vazduhom pokrenuti,Svežinom s prozora, oni su se peli, 90Gojili izduženi plamen sveće,Odnosili im dim u laquearia15

Remeteći šaru kaseti ranog stropa.Ogromno drvo naplavljeno, zasićeno bakrom,Plamsalo je zeleno i žuto u ramu od šarenog kamena,A u tom tužnom svetlu plivao isklesan delfin. Nad antičkim kaminom bio je prikazan -

Ko da se neki prozor šumskoj otvara sceni -16

Preobražaj Filomele, koju varvarski kralj17

Silova tako grubo; pa ipak tamo slavuj18 100Ispunio je pustoš nepovredivim glasomA ona još je plakala, i dalje je sledi svet,»Dživ, dživ« za prljave uši.I druge usahle patrljke vremenaKazivali su zidovi; oblike što zure, Nadvijaju se, nagnuti, ućutkuju, zatvaraju sobu.Koraci su se vukli po stepeništu.U svetlu vatre, pod četkom, njena kosaRasprostirala se u varnicama,

Žarila se u reči, pa bi se divlje smirila. 110»Živci su mi loše večeras. Da, loše.Ostani tu. Pričaj mi. Zašto uvek ćutiš. Pričaj.O čemu misliš? Šta razmišljaš? Šta? Nikada ne znam šta razmišljaš. Misli.«

12 74. up. Tužaljku u Vebsterovom White Devil.13 76. v. Bodler, predgovor Cveću zla.14 77. up. Antonije i Kleopatra, II, 11, stih 190.15 92. Laquearia. v. Eneida, I, 726.dependant lychni laquearibus aureis incensi, et noctem flammis funalia vincunt.

16 98. Šumska scena. v. Milton, Izgubljeni raj, IV, 140.17 99. v. Ovidije, Metamorfoze, VI, Filomela18 100. up. deo III, stih 204.

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Mislim da smo u pacovskom prolazu 19

Gde su mrtvaci izgubili kosti.»Kakva je to buka?«Vetar ispod vrata.20

»Kakva je to buka sada? Šta radi vetar?« Ništa, opet ništa. 120»Zar Ne znaš ništa? Zar ne vidiš ništa? Zar ne pamtiš Ništa?«PamtimTi biseri mu behu oči.»Jesi li živ, ili nisi? Zar ničeg nema u tvojoj glavi?«Ali21

O O O O taj šekspirovski šlager Tako elegantanTako inteligentan 130»Šta sada da radim? Šta da radim?Izjuriću napolje, ovakva kakva sam, šetati ulicama

Raspuštene kose, evo ovako. Šta ćemo sutra?Šta ćemo uopšte?«Topla voda u deset.A pada li kiša, zatvorena kola u četiri.I igraćemo partiju šaha,Pritiskati oči bez kapaka i čekati kucanje na vratima.22

Kada su Lilinog muža pustili iz vojske, rekla sam -Sasvim neuvijeno, u lice sam joj rekla, 140POŽURITE MOLIM VREME JESad kad se Albert vraća, udesi se malo.Pitaće šta si učinila s parama koje ti je daoDa urediš zube. Jeste, videla sam.

Povadi sve Lil, i stavi fine nove,Rekao je, kunem se, ne mogu da te gledam.A ne mogu ni ja, i pomisli na jadnog Alberta,Četiri godine u vojsci, pa hoće da se provede,Pa ako ga ti ne zabaviš, druge će, rekla sam.O, hoće li, rekla je. Otprilike, rekla sam. 150Pa znaću kome da zahvalim, rekla je i pogledala u oči.POŽURITE MOLIM VREME JEAko ti se to ne sviđa, a ti samo produži, rekla sam.Druge će moći, kad ne možeš ti.Al ako se Albert izgubi, ne reci da ti nisam rekla.Treba da se stidiš, rekla sam, što izgledaš tako starinski.

(A tek joj je trideset i druga)Šta mogu, rekla je snuždena lica,To je od onih pilula, pila sam ih da pobacim, rekla je.(Već ih ima petoro, a mali Džordž je skoro ubio.) 160Apotekar reče biće dobro al ja više nisam što sam bila.Zbilja si budala, rekla sam.Pa kad te Albert ne pušta na miru, šta ćeš, rekla sam,Zašto se udaješ ako nećeš dece?POŽURITE MOLIM VREME JE

19 115. up. deo III, stih 195.20 118. up. Webster: »Is the wind in that door still?«

21 126. up. deo I, stihovi 37, 48.22 138. up. partija šaha u Middleton, Women belvare Women.

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I tako, te nedelje kad se vratio Albert imali su vruću šunku,I pozvali me na večeru, da uživamo dok je vrućaPOŽURITE MOLIM VREME JEPOŽURITE MOLIM VREME JELakunoć Bil. 'Kunoć Lu. 'Kunoć Mej. Lakunoć. 170Ta ta. 'Kunoć, lakunoć.Laku noć gospe, laku noć, ljupke gospe, laku noć, laku noć.

III PROPOVED VATRE

Razderan je šator reke: poslednji prsti lišćaHvataju se mokre obale i tonu. Vetar Prelazi mrkom zemljom, nečujan. Nimfe su otišle.Mila Temzo, tiho teci, dok završim pesmu svoju.23

Reka ne nosi prazne boce, hartije od sendviča,Svilene maramice, kartonske kutije, pikavce Ni druge dokaze o letnjim noćima. Nimfe su otišle.

A i prijatelji im, dangubni naslednici direktora iz grada; 180Otišli, adrese nisu ostavili. Na vodama Lemanskim sedeo sam i plakao...Mila Temzo, tiho teci, dok završim pesmu svoju.Mila Temzo, tiho teci, neću biti dug ni glasan. No za leđima gde mi hladno piri,Zveket kostiju, kikot od uha do uha se širi.Jedan pacov je tiho puzao kroz žbunje,Vukao obalom svoj kaljavi trbuh,Dok sam pecao u mutnom kanaluJednom u zimsko veče, iza plinare, 190Mozgajući o propasti kralja moga brata

I smrti kralja oca mog pre njega.24

Gola bleda tela na ugnutom vlažnom tluI kosti bačene u nisko suvo potkrovlje,Gde godinama samo pod šapom pacova zazveče. No za leđima mi pokatkad zaječe25

Trube automobila, motora kojim dohodi26

U proleće Svini, gđu Porter pohodi.Zraci se mesečine po gđi Porter steru27

Ona i njena kćer u 200Soda-vodi noge peru. Et O ces voix d'enfants chantant, dans la coupole!28

Cvrk cvrk cvrk

Dživ dživ dživ dživ dživ dživTiriri Nestvarni gradePod mrkom maglom zimskog podnevaG. Eugenides, trgovac iz Smirne,

23 176. v. Spenser, Prothalamion.24 192. up. Bura, I, 11.25 196. up. Marvell, To His Coy Mistress.26 197. up. Day, Parliament of Bees:»When of the sudden, listening, you shall hear,A noise of horns and hunting, vvhich shall bringActaeon to Diana in the spring,

Where ali shall see her naked skin...«27 199. Nije mi poznato poreklo balade iz koje su uzeti ovi stihovi. Za nju sam doznao iz Sidneja, Australija.28 202. v. Verlen, Parsifal.

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Neobrijan, a džep mu pun suvog grožđa29 210C. i. f. London, dokumenti na uvid,Pozvao me je na vulgarnom francuskomDa ručam s njim u Kenon strit hoteluPa da odemo na vikend u Metropol.U ljubičasti čas, kad oči se i leđaOsovljuju nad stolom, kad ljudski motor čekaKao što taksi otkucava i čeka,Ja, Tiresija, premda slep, dok između dva života damaram,30

Starac zbrčkanih ženskih grudi, taj trenutak Vidim ljubičast, čas večernji što se stara 220O povratku domu, mornara dovodi s puta,31

Daktilografkinju kući; rasprema kuhinju, paliPeć, i hranu u konzervama iznosi. Na prozoru se opasno razapeto suši Njeno rublje, pod poslednjim zracima dana, Na divanu (noću što ko krevet služi)

Čarape, grudnjaci, hrpa zgomilana.Ja, Tiresija, starac zbrčkanih sisa,Video sam scenu, nastavak prorekao -I ja sam očekivanog gosta dočekao. 230On stiže, mladić bubuljičava lica,Činovničić, prodavač nepokretnih imanja,Kome ko skupi šešir pokondirenoj tikviPristaje smeli pogled samopouzdanja.Da čas je sada pogodan, on ceni;Večera prošla, a njoj kapci teško vise, Nežnostima malim on se bliži ženiKoja ih ne želi, ali i ne brani se.

Odlučan, zajapuren, ori sad nasrtljiv biva, Njegove drske ruke ne sreće neposlušnost; 240 Njegova taština ne traži odaziva, Njoj dovoljna je njena ravnodušnost.

29 210. Suvo grožđe bilo je deklarisano po ceni po kojoj su »prevoz i osiguranje besplatni do Londona« (carriage andinsurance free to London), a tovarni list itd. predavao se kupcu po naplati garantne menice.30 218. Tiresija, iako samo posmatrač i zapravo ne »lice«, ipak je najvažnija ličnost u pesmi, koja sjedinjuje sve ostale. Kaošto se jednooki trgovac, prodavač suvog grožđa, pretapa u Feničanskog mornara, a ovaj potonji nije sasvim različit odFerdinanda, kneza napuljskog, tako su sve žene zapravo jedna žena, a oba se pola stapaju u Tiresiji. Ono što Tiresija vidizapravo je suština pesme. Ceo sledeći odlomak iz Ovidija od velikog je antropološkog interesa:». . . . Cum lunone iocos et maior vestra profecto estQuam, quae contingit maribus«, dixisse, »voluptas«.Iila negat; placuit quae sit sententia doctiQuaerere Tiresiae: venus huic erat utraque nota. Nam duo magnorum viridi coeuntia silvaCorpora serpentum baculi violaverat ictuDeque viro factus, mirabile, femina septemEgerat autumnos; octavo rursus eosdemVidit et »est vestrae si tanta potentia plagae«,Dixit »ut aucloris sortem in contraria mutet, Nunc quoque vos feriam!« percussis anguibis isdemForma prior rediit genetivaque venit imago.Arbiter hic igitur sumptus de lite iocosaDicta loviš firmat; gravius Saturnia iusto Nec pro materia fertur doluisse suiqueIudicis aeterna damnavit lumina nocte,At pater omnipotens (neque enim licet inrita cuiquam

Facta dei fecisse deo) pro lumine ademptoScire futura dedit poenamque levavit honore.31 221. Ovo možda nije tačno u smislu Sapfinih stihova, ali ja sam imao u vidu »obalskog ribara« koji se vraća kući u sumrak.

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(A ja, Tiresija, sve sam unapred prepatio, Na istom tom divanu sve provodio,Ja koji sam ispod zidova Tebe bioI među najnižim od mrtvaca hodio.) Na kraju još je zaštitnički ljubiI pipa put, na stepeništu mrak je

Ona se okreće, u zrcalo zuriJedva i svesna ljubavnika svojeg; 250Umom joj mutna misao projuri:»Baš mi je milo da prošlo i to je«.Kad lepa žena ponizi se tako,32

Pa sama hoda svojom sobom noću, Nesvesno kosu pogladiće lakoI na gramofon namestiti ploču.»Ta muzika me stigla na vodama«33

I duž Stranda, pa uz Queen Victoria Street,

O Grade grade, začujem ponekadKraj neke kreme dole pored Temze 260Prijatni jecaj neke mandoline,Zveckanje, žamor što iznutra pline,Gde ribari su dokoni u podne: gde na zidovimaMagnusa Mučenika od jonske beline34

I zlata sjaja nepojamnog ima.Reka se znoji35

Katranom i mazutomLađe plovePlimom okrenutomCrvena jedra 270

ŠirokaVetrom na jarbolu iskošena.Lađama s bokaBrvna vrh talasaSve do GriničaKraj Ostrva pasa.Weilala leiaWallala leilalaElizabeta i Lester 36

Zaveslaji 280Krma se ko školjkaPozlaćena sjaji

Zlatno i crveno Na obale stižuTalasi sa penomJugozapadnjakom niz voduZvuči zvonjave odu32 253. v. Goldsmith, pesma u The Vicar of IVakefield.33 257. v. Bura, kao gore.34 264. Unutrašnjost crkve Sv. Magnusa Mučenika za mene je jedan od najlepših Vrenovih enterijera. Vidi The Proposed Demolition of Nineteen City Churches (P. S. King & Son, Ltd.)35 266. Pesma (triju) TemziDih kćeri počinje ovde. Od stiha 292. do zaključno 306. one govore jedna za drugom. VidiGotterdamme-rung, III, 1: Kćeri Rajne.36 279. v. Froude, Elisabeth, tom I, gl. 4, pismo De Quadra Filipu španskom:

»Popodne smo proveli u paradnom čamcu i posmatrali igre na reci. (Kraljica) bese sama sa lordom Robertom isa mnom na krmi, kad oni počeše da govore besmislice i upustiše se tako daleko da je lord Robert najzad, u mom

prisustvu, rekao da nema razloga da se oni ne venčaju, ako kraljica izvoli«.

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Zvona bele kuleWeilala leia 290Wallala leilala

»Tramvaji, drvećem prašina polegla.Hajberi me rodi. Ričmond i Kju37

Upropastiše me. Kraj Ričmonda sam leglaI noge digla u čunu na dnu.«

»Kod Murgejta mi noge, a srce mojePod nogama mi. A kad svrši se i to,Plakao je. ,Nov početak' obećo je.Ćutala sam. Šta da uzmem mu za zlo?«

»Na Margejtskom sprudu. 300Mogu da spojim Ništa i ništa.Slomljeni nokti prljavih ruku.Sirotinja moja za koju ne predstoji Ništa.«

la laDođoh tad u Kartaginu

Gori gori gori goriO Gospode ti me otkidaš 310O Gospode ti me otkidaš

Gori

IV SMRT OD VODE

Fleb, Feničanin, dve nedelje mrtav,Zaboravio je krike galeba, more kad nabuja,Dobitak i gubitak.

Podmorska jedna strujaOglodala mu kosti, šapatom. Dok dizao se, padao,Prolazio je doba zrelosti svoje i mladostiUlazeći u vrtlog.

Pagani ili Jevreji, o svi viŠto krmanite i gledate u vetar, 320Setite se Fleba, nekada lepog i stasitog ko i vi.

V ONO ŠTO REČE GROM38

Posle crvenila baklji na znojnim licimaPosle ledenog muka u vrtovimaPosle agonije među kamenim vidicimaPovici i plačTamnica i dvorac i jekaProlećnog groma vrh dalekih brdaOn što bese živ sada je mrtav37 293. up. Čistilište, V, 133:»Ricorditi di me, che son la Pia;

Siena mi fe' disfecemi Maremma.«38 U prvom delu V dela postoje tri teme: put u Emaus, prilaz Opasnoj kapeli (vidi knjigu gđice Weston) isadašnje propadanje istočne Evrope.

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Mi što besmo živi umiremo sadaDonekle strpljivi. 330

Ovde nema vode nego svud je kamenKamen a nema vode i peskovit putPut što vijuga gore među brdimaŠto su brda kamena bez vodeDa ima vode stali bi i počeli pitiSred kamenja ne može stati i zamišljen bitiZnoj je osušen a stopala su u peskuDa je samo vode među tim kamenjemMrtva usta brda kvarnih zuba ni da pljunuOvde ni da stojiš ni ležiš ni sediš 340U tim brdima nema čak ni tišine više Nego jalova suva grmljavina bez kišeU tim brdima nema čak više ni samoće Nego se crvena tmurna lica cere i reže

S pragova raspucalih kuća od blataKad bi bilo vodeA ne kamenjeKad bi bilo kamenjaAli i vodeI vodeIzvor 350Lokva među kamenjemKad bi se samo čuo šum vodeA ne cikadaI suva trava zapevana Nego šum vode preko kamenja

Gde drozd-pustinjak peva u borovimaKapa kap kapa kap kap kap kap39

No nema vodeKo je taj treći što stalno ide pored tebe?Brojim li, tu smo samo ti i ja u društvu40 360 No kada pogledam napred niz beli putTJvek vidim još nekog u hodu pored tebeŠulja se zakukuljen, u mrkom ogrtaču Ne znam je li muškarac ili žena- No ko je to sa tvoje druge strane?

Kakav je to zvuk u visini41

Mrmor materinske tužaljkeKakve se to zakukuljene horde rojePo beskrajnim ravnima, posrću napuklim tlom

39 357. Ovo je Turdus anoalaschkae pallasii, drozd-pustinjak koga sam čuo u pokrajini Kvebek. Chapman(Handbook of Birds ofEastern North America) kaže: »...najviše mu prijaju usamljeni predeli šuma ili šikara. . .

Njegov pev nije značajan po raznolikosti opsega glasa, ali po čistoti i umilnosti zvuka i izvrsnim modulacijamanema mu ravna«. Njegova »pesma vodenih kapi« s pravom se proslavila.40 360. Sledeće stihove nadahnula je priča s jedne od ekspedicija na Antarktik (zaboravio sam koje, ali mislim

jedne Šakltonove): pričalo se da se grupi istraživača, na krajnjoj granici snaga, stalno pričinjavalo da je međunjima jedan član više nego što su stvarno mogli da se prebroje.41 366-376. up. Herman Hesse, Blick ins Chaos: »Schon ist halb Europa, schon ist zumindest der halbe Osten

Europas auf dem Wege zum Chaos, fahrt betrunken im heiligen Wahn am Abgrundentlang und singt dazu, singt betrunken und hvmnisch wie Dmitri Karamasoff sang. Ueber diese Lieder lacht der Burger beleidigt, der Heilige und Seher hort sie mit Tranen«.

9



Okruženi samo ravnim obzorom 370Kakav se to grad nad brdimaDrobi sastavlja opet rasprskava u ljubičastom vazduhuKule što se rušeJerusalim Atina AleksandrijaBeč London NestvarniJedna je žena zategla dugu crnu kosuI na tim strunama muziku šapata izvodilaU ljubičastom vazduhu ljiljci dečjih lica što suZviždali uz lepet krila - 380Pa puzali glavom nadole niz pocrneli zidU vazduhu naglavce behu tornjevi, glasoviZvona i opomena, otkucani časoviI glasovi zapevali iz praznih čatrnja i usahlih vrela.U ovoj raspadnutoj jami među brdimaU bledoj mesečini, trava peva

Na obaljenim grobovima, oko kapele,Tamo je prazna kapela, jedino vetru dom.Prozora nema a vrata se njišu,Suve kosti nikome ne mogu ništa.Samo je petao stajao na krovnoj grediKu ku riku ku ku rikuU blesku munje. A onda vlažni udar vetraŠto nosi kišu.

Gang bese opao, i ovešeno lišćeČekalo je kišu, dok su se crni oblaciSkupljali nad Himavantom, u daljini.

Džungla se ugnula, zgurila u tišini.Tad progovori gromDA 400 Datta: Šta smo mi dali?42

Prijatelju, krv mi srcem potresaStrašna odvažnost predaje magnovenjaKoju ni vek razboritosti ne može opozvatiTime, i time samo mi smo postojaliA to se ne nalazi u našim posmrtnicama Ni u sećanjima koja zastire pauk dobrotvor 43

Ni pod pečatima koje mršavi pravozastupnik lomiU našim praznim sobama

DA 410 Dayadhvam: čuo sam ključ,44

Okrenuo se u vratima jednom, i jednom samo,

42 401. »Datta, davadhvam, damvata« (Daj, saosećaj, upravljaj). Basna o značenju Groma nalazi se u Brihaderanyaka-TJpanishad, 5, 1. Prevod se nalazi u knjizi Deussen-a Sechzig Upanishads des Veda, str. 489.43 407. up. NVebster, The White Devil, V, 6:» . .. they' 11 remarry Ere the worm pierce your winding-sheet, ere the spider Make a thin curtain for your epitaphs«.44 411. up. Pakao, XXXIII, 46:»ed io sentii chiavar l'uscio di sotto ali' oribile torre«.Takođe F. H. Bradley, Appearance and Reality, str. 346. »Moje spoljašnje senzacije meni su isto tako privatne

kao i moje misli ili osećanja. U oba slučaja moje iskustvo spada u moj sopstveni krug, zatvoren prema spolja; i,sa svim elementima koji su slični, svaka sfera je neprovidna za druge, koje je okružuju . . . Ukratko, posmatrankao iskustvo koje postoji u duši, čitav svet je osoben i privatan za tu dušu.«

10



Mi mislimo na ključ, svako u svojoj tamniciMisleći na ključ, svako potvrđuje po tamnicuSamo u suton eterski glasoviOžive za tren slomljenog jednog Koriolana.DA Damyata: čamac se povinovaoRadosno, ruci vičnoj jedrima i veslu,More beše mirno, i tvoje bi se srce povinovaloRadosno, na poziv, poslušno kucajućiVlasnim rukama

Sedeo sam na obaliI pecao, s neplodnom ravnicom za leđima.45

Hoću li barem srediti svoje zemlje?Londonski most se ruši ruši ruši Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli a/fina46

Quando fiam uti chelidon - O lasto lasto47

Le Prince d'Aquitaine a la tour abolie48

Tim sam odlomcima podupro svoje ruševine 430Pa šta, dobro će doći. Hieronimo opet mahnita.49

Datta. Davadhvam. Damvata.Shantih shantih shantih50

The Waste Land

I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

45 424. v. NVeston, From Ritual to Romance, poglavlje o Kralju ribaru.46 427. v. Čistilište, XXVI, 148:»Ara vos prec per aquella valor que vos guida al som de l'escalina sovegna vos a temps de ma dolor. -• Pois'ascose nel foco che gli affina.«47 428. v. Pervigilium Veneris. up. Filomela u delu II i III.48 429. v. Žerar de Nerval, sonet El Desdichado. 431.

49 431. v. Kyd, Spanish Tragedy.50 433. Shantih. Ponovljeno kao ovde, predstavlja uobičajeni završetak jedne Upanišade. Naš ekvivalent za ovureč jeste »Mir koji prevazi laži razum«.

11



APRIL is the cruellest month, breedingLilacs out of the dead land, mixingMemory and desire, stirringDull roots with spring rain.Winter kept us warm, covering 5Earth in forgetful snow, feedingA little life with dried tubers.Summer surprised us, coming over the StarnbergerseeWith a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, 10And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,And I was frightened. He said, Marie, 15Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.In the mountains, there you feel free.I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches growOut of this stony rubbish? Son of man, 20You cannot say, or guess, for you know onlyA 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. OnlyThere is shadow under this red rock, 25(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),And I will show you something different from eitherYour shadow at morning striding behind youOr your shadow at evening rising to meet you;I will show you fear in a handful of dust. 30Frisch weht der Wind

Der Heimat zu.Mein Irisch Kind,Wo weilest du?'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; 35'They called me the hyacinth girl.'—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing, 40Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Od' und leer das Meer.

Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,

Had a bad cold, neverthelessIs known to be the wisest woman in Europe, 45With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,The lady of situations. 50Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,Which I am forbidden to see. I do not findThe Hanged Man. Fear death by water. 55I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,

Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:One must be so careful these days.

12



Unreal City, 60Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,I had not thought death had undone so many.Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,And each man fixed his eyes before his feet. 65Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hoursWith a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying 'Stetson!'You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! 70'That corpse you planted last year in your garden,'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again! 75'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!'

II. A GAME OF CHESS

THE Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,Glowed on the marble, where the glassHeld up by standards wrought with fruited vinesFrom which a golden Cupidon peeped out 80(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabraReflecting light upon the table asThe glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,From satin cases poured in rich profusion; 85In vials of ivory and coloured glassUnstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,Unguent, powdered, or liquid—troubled, confused

And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the airThat freshened from the window, these ascended 90In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,Flung their smoke into the laquearia,Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.Huge sea-wood fed with copperBurned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone, 95In which sad light a carvèd dolphin swam.Above the antique mantel was displayedAs though a window gave upon the sylvan sceneThe change of Philomel, by the barbarous kingSo rudely forced; yet there the nightingale 100Filled all the desert with inviolable voice

And still she cried, and still the world pursues,'Jug Jug' to dirty ears.And other withered stumps of timeWere told upon the walls; staring forms 105Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.Footsteps shuffled on the stair.Under the firelight, under the brush, her hairSpread out in fiery pointsGlowed into words, then would be savagely still. 110

'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 115

13



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. 120'Do'You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember'Nothing?'I rememberThose are pearls that were his eyes. 125'Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?'ButO O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—It's so elegantSo intelligent 130'What shall I do now? What shall I do?''I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street'With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?'What shall we ever do?'

The hot water at ten. 135And if it rains, a closed car at four.And we shall play a game of chess,Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.

When Lil's husband got demobbed, I said—I didn't mince my words, I said to her myself, 140HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIMENow Albert's coming back, make yourself a bit smart.He'll want to know what you done with that money he gave youTo get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set, 145He said, I swear, I can't bear to look at you.And no more can't I, I said, and think of poor Albert,

He's been in the army four years, he wants a good time,And if you don't give it him, there's others will, I said.Oh is there, she said. Something o' that, I said. 150Then I'll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look.HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIMEIf you don't like it you can get on with it, I said.Others can pick and choose if you can't.But if Albert makes off, it won't be for lack of telling. 155You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.(And her only thirty-one.)I can't help it, she said, pulling a long face,It's them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.(She's had five already, and nearly died of young George.) 160

The chemist said it would be alright, but I've never been the same.You are a proper fool, I said.Well, if Albert won't leave you alone, there it is, I said,What you get married for if you don't want children?HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME 165Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot—HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIMEHURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIMEGoonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. 170Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.

III. THE FIRE SERMON

14



THE river's tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The windCrosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. 175Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette endsOr other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed.And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; 180Departed, have left no addresses.By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept...Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.But at my back in a cold blast I hear 185The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.

A rat crept softly through the vegetationDragging its slimy belly on the bankWhile I was fishing in the dull canalOn a winter evening round behind the gashouse 190Musing upon the king my brother's wreck

And on the king my father's death before him.White bodies naked on the low damp groundAnd bones cast in a little low dry garret,Rattled by the rat's foot only, year to year. 195But at my back from time to time I hearThe sound of horns and motors, which shall bringSweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring.O the moon shone bright on Mrs. PorterAnd on her daughter 200They wash their feet in soda waterEt, O ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole!

Twit twit twitJug jug jug jug jug jug

So rudely forc'd. 205Tereu

Unreal CityUnder the brown fog of a winter noonMr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchantUnshaven, with a pocket full of currants 210C.i.f. London: documents at sight,Asked me in demotic FrenchTo luncheon at the Cannon Street HotelFollowed by a weekend at the Metropole.

At the violet hour, when the eyes and back 215

Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waitsLike a taxi throbbing waiting,I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives,Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can seeAt the violet hour, the evening hour that strives 220Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lightsHer stove, and lays out food in tins.Out of the window perilously spreadHer drying combinations touched by the sun's last rays, 225On the divan are piled (at night her bed)Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays.I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugsPerceived the scene, and foretold the rest—

I too awaited the expected guest. 230He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,

15



A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,One of the low on whom assurance sitsAs a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.The time is now propitious, as he guesses, 235The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,Endeavours to engage her in caressesWhich still are unreproved, if undesired.Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;Exploring hands encounter no defence; 240His vanity requires no response,And makes a welcome of indifference.(And I Tiresias have foresuffered allEnacted on this same divan or bed;I who have sat by Thebes below the wall 245And walked among the lowest of the dead.)Bestows on final patronising kiss,And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit...

She turns and looks a moment in the glass,Hardly aware of her departed lover; 250

Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:'Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.'When lovely woman stoops to folly andPaces about her room again, alone,She smoothes her hair with automatic hand, 255And puts a record on the gramophone.

'This music crept by me upon the waters'And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street.O City city, I can sometimes hearBeside a public bar in Lower Thames Street, 260The pleasant whining of a mandolineAnd a clatter and a chatter from withinWhere fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls

Of Magnus Martyr holdInexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold. 265

The river sweatsOil and tarThe barges driftWith the turning tideRed sails 270WideTo leeward, swing on the heavy spar.The barges washDrifting logsDown Greenwich reach 275

Past the Isle of Dogs.Weialala leiaWallala leialala

Elizabeth and LeicesterBeating oars 280The stern was formedA gilded shellRed and goldThe brisk swellRippled both shores 285Southwest windCarried down streamThe peal of bells

White towersWeialala leia 290

16



Wallala leialala

'Trams and dusty trees.Highbury bore me. Richmond and KewUndid me. By Richmond I raised my kneesSupine on the floor of a narrow canoe.' 295'My feet are at Moorgate, and my heartUnder my feet. After the eventHe wept. He promised "a new start".I made no comment. What should I resent?''On Margate Sands. 300I can connectNothing with nothing.The broken fingernails of dirty hands.My people humble people who expectNothing.' 305la la

To Carthage then I came

Burning burning burning burningO Lord Thou pluckest me outO Lord Thou pluckest 310

burning

IV. DEATH BY WATER

PHLEBAS the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep seas swellAnd the profit and loss.A current under sea 315Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell

He passed the stages of his age and youthEntering the whirlpool.Gentile or JewO you who turn the wheel and look to windward, 320Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

V. WHAT THE THUNDER SAID

AFTER the torchlight red on sweaty facesAfter the frosty silence in the gardensAfter the agony in stony placesThe shouting and the crying 325

Prison and place and reverberationOf thunder of spring over distant mountainsHe who was living is now deadWe who were living are now dyingWith a little patience 330

Here is no water but only rockRock and no water and the sandy roadThe road winding above among the mountainsWhich are mountains of rock without waterIf there were water we should stop and drink 335Amongst the rock one cannot stop or thinkSweat is dry and feet are in the sandIf there were only water amongst the rock

Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spitHere one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340

17



There is not even silence in the mountainsBut dry sterile thunder without rainThere is not even solitude in the mountainsBut red sullen faces sneer and snarlFrom doors of mudcracked housesIf there were water 345And no rockIf there were rockAnd also waterAnd waterA spring 350A pool among the rockIf there were the sound of water onlyNot the cicadaAnd dry grass singingBut sound of water over a rock 355Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine treesDrip drop drip drop drop drop dropBut there is no water

Who is the third who walks always beside you?When I count, there are only you and I together 360But when I look ahead up the white roadThere is always another one walking beside youGliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hoodedI do not know whether a man or a woman—But who is that on the other side of you? 365

What is that sound high in the airMurmur of maternal lamentationWho are those hooded hordes swarmingOver endless plains, stumbling in cracked earthRinged by the flat horizon only 370What is the city over the mountains

Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet airFalling towersJerusalem Athens AlexandriaVienna London 375Unreal

A woman drew her long black hair out tightAnd fiddled whisper music on those stringsAnd bats with baby faces in the violet lightWhistled, and beat their wings 380And crawled head downward down a blackened wallAnd upside down in air were towersTolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours

And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.

In this decayed hole among the mountains 385In the faint moonlight, the grass is singingOver the tumbled graves, about the chapelThere is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.It has no windows, and the door swings,Dry bones can harm no one. 390Only a cock stood on the rooftreeCo co rico co co ricoIn a flash of lightning. Then a damp gustBringing rain

Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves 395

Waited for rain, while the black cloudsGathered far distant, over Himavant.

18



The jungle crouched, humped in silence.Then spoke the thunderD A 400Datta: what have we given?My friend, blood shaking my heartThe awful daring of a moment's surrenderWhich an age of prudence can never retractBy this, and this only, we have existed 405Which is not to be found in our obituariesOr in memories draped by the beneficent spiderOr under seals broken by the lean solicitorIn our empty roomsD A 410Dayadhvam: I have heard the keyTurn in the door once and turn once onlyWe think of the key, each in his prisonThinking of the key, each confirms a prisonOnly at nightfall, aetherial rumours 415Revive for a moment a broken CoriolanusD A

Damyata: The boat respondedGaily, to the hand expert with sail and oarThe sea was calm, your heart would have responded 420Gaily, when invited, beating obedientTo controlling hands

I sat upon the shoreFishing, with the arid plain behind meShall I at least set my lands in order? 425

London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down

Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affinaQuando fiam ceu chelidon—O swallow swallow

Le Prince d'Aquitaine à la tour abolieThese fragments I have shored against my ruins 430Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo's mad againe.Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.

Shantih shantih shantih

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NOTES

Not only the title, but the plan and a good deal of the incidental symbolism of the poem weresuggested by Miss Jessie L. Weston's book on the Grail legend: From Ritual to Romance(Macmillan). Indeed, so deeply am I indebted, Miss Weston's book will elucidate the difficulties of the poem much better than my notes can do; and I recommend it (apart from the great interest of the book itself) to any who think such elucidation of the poem worth the trouble. To another workof anthropology I am indebted in general, one which has influenced our generation profoundly; Imean The Golden Bough; I have used especially the two volumes Adonis, Attis, Osiris. Anyone whois acquainted with these works will immediately recognize in the poem certain references tovegetation ceremonies.

I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

Line 20 Cf. Ezekiel 2:7.

19



23. Cf. Ecclesiastes 12:5.

31. V. Tristan und Isolde, i, verses 5–8.

42. Id. iii, verse 24.

46. I am not familiar with the exact constitution of the Tarot pack of cards, from which I haveobviously departed to suit my own convenience. The Hanged Man, a member of the traditionalpack, fits my purpose in two ways: because he is associated in my mind with the Hanged God of Frazer, and because I associate him with the hooded figure in the passage of the disciples toEmmaus in Part V. The Phoenician Sailor and the Merchant appear later; also the 'crowds of people', and Death by Water is executed in Part IV. The Man with Three Staves (an authenticmember of the Tarot pack) I associate, quite arbitrarily, with the Fisher King himself.

60. Cf. Baudelaire:Fourmillante cité, cité pleine de rêves,Où le spectre en plein jour raccroche le passant.

63. Cf. Inferno, iii. 55–7:si lunga trattadi gente, ch'io non avrei mai credutoche morte tanta n'avesse disfatta.

64. Cf. Inferno, iv. 25–27:Quivi, secondo che per ascoltare,non avea pianto, ma' che di sospiri,

che l'aura eterna facevan tremare.

68. A phenomenon which I have often noticed.

74. Cf. the Dirge in Webster's White Devil.

76. V. Baudelaire, Preface to Fleurs du Mal.

II. A GAME OF CHESS

77. Cf. Antony and Cleopatra, II. ii. 190.

92. Laquearia. V. Aeneid, I. 726:dependent lychni laquearibus aureis incensi, et noctem flammis funalia vincunt.

98. Sylvan scene. V. Milton, Paradise Lost, iv. 140.

99. V. Ovid, Metamorphoses, vi, Philomela.

20



100. Cf. Part III, l. 204.

115. Cf. Part III, l. 195.

118. Cf. Webster: 'Is the wind in that door still?'

126. Cf. Part I, l. 37, 48.

138. Cf. the game of chess in Middleton's Women beware Women.

III. THE FIRE SERMON

176. V. Spenser, Prothalamion.

192. Cf. The Tempest, I. ii.

196. Cf. Marvell, To His Coy Mistress.

197. Cf. Day, Parliament of Bees:When of the sudden, listening, you shall hear,A noise of horns and hunting, which shall bringActaeon to Diana in the spring,Where all shall see her naked skin...

199. I do not know the origin of the ballad from which these lines are taken: it was reported to mefrom Sydney, Australia.

202. V. Verlaine, Parsifal.

210. The currants were quoted at a price 'carriage and insurance free to London'; and the Bill of Lading, etc., were to be handed to the buyer upon payment of the sight draft.

218. Tiresias, although a mere spectator and not indeed a 'character', is yet the most importantpersonage 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 anthropologicalinterest:...Cum Iunone iocos et 'maior vestra profecto estQuam, quae contingit maribus', dixisse, 'voluptas.'Illa negat; placuit quae sit sententia doctiQuaerere Tiresiae: venus huic erat utraque nota.Nam duo magnorum viridi coeuntia silvaCorpora serpentum baculi violaverat ictuDeque viro factus, mirabile, femina septemEgerat autumnos; octavo rursus eosdem

Vidit et 'est vestrae si tanta potentia plagae',Dixit 'ut auctoris sortem in contraria mutet,

21



Nunc quoque vos feriam!' percussis anguibus isdemForma prior rediit genetivaque venit imago.Arbiter hic igitur sumptus de lite iocosaDicta Iovis firmat; gravius Saturnia iustoNec pro materia fertur doluisse suiqueIudicis aeterna damnavit lumina nocte,At pater omnipotens (neque enim licet inrita cuiquamFacta dei fecisse deo) pro lumine ademptoScire futura dedit poenamque levavit honore.

221. This may not appear as exact as Sappho's lines, but I had in mind the 'longshore' or 'dory'fisherman, who returns at nightfall.

253. V. Goldsmith, the song in The Vicar of Wakefield.

257. V. The Tempest, as above.

264. The interior of St. Magnus Martyr is to my mind one of the finest among Wren's interiors. SeeThe Proposed Demolition of Nineteen City Churches (P. S. King & Son, Ltd.).

266. The Song of the (three) Thames-daughters begins here. From line 292 to 306 inclusive theyspeak in turn. V. Götterdammerung, III. i: The Rhine-daughters.

279. V. Froude, Elizabeth, vol. I, ch. iv, letter of De Quadra to Philip of Spain:In the afternoon we were in a barge, watching the games on the river. (The queen) was alone withLord Robert and myself on the poop, when they began to talk nonsense, and went so far that LordRobert at last said, as I was on the spot there was no reason why they should not be married if thequeen pleased.

293. Cf. Purgatorio, V. 133:'Ricorditi di me, che son la Pia;Siena mi fe', disfecemi Maremma.'

307. V. St. Augustine's Confessions: 'to Carthage then I came, where a cauldron of unholy lovessang all about mine ears'.

308. The complete text of the Buddha's Fire Sermon (which corresponds in importance to theSermon 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 thegreat pioneers of Buddhist studies in the Occident.

309. 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.

V. WHAT THE THUNDER SAID

In the first part of Part V three themes are employed: the journey to Emmaus, the approach to theChapel Perilous (see Miss Weston's book), and the present decay of eastern Europe.

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357. This is Turdus aonalaschkae pallasii, the hermit-thrush which I have heard in Quebec County.Chapman says (Handbook of Birds in Eastern North America) 'it is most at home in secludedwoodland and thickety retreats.... Its notes are not remarkable for variety or volume, but in purityand sweetness of tone and exquisite modulation they are unequalled.' Its 'water-dripping song' is

justly celebrated.

360. The following lines were stimulated by the account of one of the Antarctic expeditions (I forgetwhich, but I think one of Shackleton's): it was related that the party of explorers, at the extremityof their strength, had the constant delusion that there was one more member than could actuallybe counted.

367–77. Cf. Hermann Hesse, Blick ins Chaos:Schon ist halb Europa, schon ist zumindest der halbe Osten Europas auf dem Wege zum Chaos,fährt betrunken im heiligen Wahn am Abgrund entlang und singt dazu, singt betrunken undhymnisch wie Dmitri Karamasoff sang. Ueber diese Lieder lacht der Bürger beleidigt, der Heiligeund Seher hört sie mit Tränen.

401. 'Datta, dayadhvam, damyata' (Give, sympathize, control). The fable of the meaning of theThunder is found in the Brihadaranyaka--Upanishad, 5, 1. A translation is found in Deussen'sSechzig Upanishads des Veda, p. 489.

407. Cf. Webster, The White Devil, V, vi:...they'll remarryEre the worm pierce your winding-sheet, ere the spiderMake a thin curtain for your epitaphs.

411. Cf. Inferno, xxxiii. 46:ed io sentii chiavar l'uscio di sottoall'orribile torre.

Also F. H. Bradley, Appearance and Reality, p. 346:My external sensations are no less private to myself than are my thoughts or my feelings. In eithercase my experience falls within my own circle, a circle closed on the outside; and, with all itselements alike, every sphere is opaque to the others which surround it.... In brief, regarded as anexistence which appears in a soul, the whole world for each is peculiar and private to that soul.

424. V. Weston, From Ritual to Romance; chapter on the Fisher King.

427. V. Purgatorio, xxvi. 148.'Ara vos prec per aquella valor'que vos guida al som de l'escalina,

'sovegna vos a temps de ma dolor.'Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affina.

428. V. Pervigilium Veneris. Cf. Philomela in Parts II and III.

429. V. Gerard de Nerval, Sonnet El Desdichado.

431. V. Kyd's Spanish Tragedy.

433. Shantih. Repeated as here, a formal ending to an Upanishad. 'The Peace which passeth

understanding' is a feeble translation of the conduct of this word

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