- from raw material by T.S. Eliot
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is against the sky
Like a patient upon a table;
Let us go, through half-deserted streets,
The muttering
Of nights in cheap hotels
And sawdust with oyster-shells:
Streets that like a tedious
intent
lead an overwhelming question ...
"What is it?"
our visit.
the women
of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog the window-panes,
The yellow smoke the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the evening,
Lingered in drains,
Let fall the soot from chimneys,
Slipped by a sudden leap,
it was a soft October night,
Curled and fell asleep.
And indeed
the yellow smoke along the street,
the window-panes;
There will be there will be
a face to meet the faces
There will be murder and
for all the hands
That drop a plate;
for you and for me,
And yet for indecisions,
for visions and revisions,
taking toast and tea.
In the room
of Michelangelo.
indeed there will be
"Do I dare?" and
turn back the stair,
a spot in my hair--
his hair
My coat, my chin,
My necktie a simple pin--
his arms are thin!
dare
the universe
In a minute
will reverse.
For I have known , known them all:
the evenings, afternoons,
I have my life with coffee spoons;
I know the fall
from a farther room.
So how should I
have known the eyes known
The eyes
sprawling on a pin,
pinned on the wall,
how should I
spit out my days
And how should I
have known the arms known them all--
white and bare
with light brown hair!
Is it a dress
That makes me digress?
Arms that lie along or wrap about
And should I ?
And how should I ?
* * * *
I have gone at dusk
And watched the smoke
Of lonely men
I should have claws
Scuttling across the floors
* * * *
the afternoon sleeps
Smoothed by fingers,
Asleep it malingers,
Stretched beside you
Should I, after ices,
force its crisis?
I have wept and wept and
seen my head
I am no great matter;
I have seen greatness flicker,
And the eternal Footman snicker,
And I was afraid.
And would it after all,
After the tea,
Among the porcelain and me,
Would it have
a smile,
To have squeezed into a ball
some question,
To say: "I
shall tell you all”
If her head,
Should say: "That is not what I meant
at all."
And would it have been
worth while,
the sunsets the streets,
the novels, the skirts
and more?--
what I mean
threw patterns on a screen:
worth while
If one, settling a shawl,
And turning should say:
"That is not
what I meant, at all."
* * * *
Prince Hamlet was meant to be
that will do
swell a progress, a scene or two,
no tool,
glad to be
Politic and meticulous
Full of sentence
almost ridiculous--
Almost
I grow old
I wear my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair ? Do I dare ?
I shall upon the beach
the mermaids each to each.
do not they sing to me.
them riding waves
Combing waves
wind blows the water
We lingered in the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
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