imported>Ianlogic at 14:48, 21 April 2017

2017-04-21T14:48:30Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 14:48, 21 April 2017
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	Dull roots with spring rain.		Dull roots with spring rain.


	Winter kept us warm, covering		Winter kept us warm, covering
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	A little life with dried tubers.		A little life with dried tubers.


	Summer surprised us, coming over the Sea		Summer surprised us, coming over the Sea
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	And drank wine, and talked for an hour.		And drank wine, and talked for an hour.


	And when we were children, staying at Vorsay,		And when we were children, staying at Vorsay,
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	hold on tight. And down we went.		hold on tight. And down we went.


	In the mountains, there you feel free.		In the mountains, there you feel free.
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	Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;		Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;


	I will show you fear in a handful of dust.		I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
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	Looking into the heart of light, the silence.		Looking into the heart of light, the silence.


	Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,		Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
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	The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.		The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.


	I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.		I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.

imported>Ianlogic: Created page with "Spring is the cruellest season, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering..."

2017-04-08T21:16:34Z

Created page with "Spring is the cruellest season, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering..."

New page

Spring is the cruellest season, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.

Winter kept us warm, covering

Earth in forgetful snow, feeding

A little life with dried tubers.

Summer surprised us, coming over the Sea

With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,

And went on in sunlight, into the Helfellion,

And drank wine, and talked for an hour.

And when we were children, staying at Vorsay,

My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,

And I was frightened. He said,

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 grow

Out of this stony rubbish? 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. 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.

“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;

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 not

Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither

Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,

Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

Here 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 find

The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.

I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.

Thank you. If you see Persephone

Tell her I bring the Stone myself:

One must be so careful these days.

Halfling Poem in Efferendil - Revision history

imported>Ianlogic at 14:48, 21 April 2017

imported>Ianlogic: Created page with "Spring is the cruellest season, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering..."