and, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, c
Earth in fetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, ing over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of raiopped in the nade,
A on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm aus Litaue deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the archdukes,
My cousins, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And doent.
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 ot say, uess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sus,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow uhis red rock,
(e in uhe shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at m striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
"You gave me hyaths first a year ago;
"They called me the hyath girl."
––Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyath garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was her
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Oed und leer das Meer?.
Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, heless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
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