Only 25 There is shadow under this red rock, 26 (Come in under the shadow of this red rock), 27 And I will show you something different from either 28 Your shadow at morning striding behind you 29 Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you 30 I will show you fear in a handful of dust. 19 What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow 20 Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, 21 You cannot say, or guess, for you know only 22 A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, 23 And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, 24 And the dry stone no sound of water.
18 I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. 17 In the mountains, there you feel free. 12 Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch US Sc #U553 Mint Postal Stationery Entire 1968 5+1c Bright Purpl 14 My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled, 15 And I was frightened. 8 Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee 9 With a shower of rain we stopped in the colonnade, 10 And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, 11 And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. 5 Winter kept us warm, covering 6 Earth in forgetful snow, feeding 7 A little life with dried tubers. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD 1 April is the cruellest month, breeding 2 Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing 3 Memory and desire, stirring 4 Dull roots with spring rain.
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