While we still have a few days left...

April is the cruellest month, 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 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.                                 

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,                                         

Marie, 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.     

 

(For the full text of T.S. Eliot's masterpiece, The Waste Land, hit the link)

http://www.bartleby.com/201/1.html