Ash Wednesday<\/p>\n
T. S. EliotI<\/p>\n
Because I do not hope to turn again<\/p>\n
Because I do not hope<\/p>\n
Because I do not hope to turn<\/p>\n
Desiring this man\u2019s gift and that man\u2019s scope<\/p>\n
I no longer strive to strive towards such things<\/p>\n
(Why should the ag\u00e8d eagle stretch its wings?)<\/p>\n
Why should I mournThe vanished power of the usual reign?<\/p>\n
Because I do not hope to know<\/p>\n
The infirm glory of the positive hour<\/p>\n
Because I do not think<\/p>\n
Because I know I shall not know<\/p>\n
The one veritable transitory power<\/p>\n
Because I cannot drink<\/p>\n
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is<\/p>\n
nothing again<\/p>\n
Because I know that time is always time<\/p>\n
And place is always and only place<\/p>\n
And what is actual is actual only for one time<\/p>\n
And only for one place<\/p>\n
I rejoice that things are as they are and<\/p>\n
I renounce the bless\u00e8d face<\/p>\n
And renounce the voice<\/p>\n
Because I cannot hope to turn again<\/p>\n
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something<\/p>\n
Upon which to rejoice<\/p>\n
And pray to God to have mercy upon us<\/p>\n
And pray that I may forget<\/p>\n
These matters that with myself I too much discuss<\/p>\n
Too much explain<\/p>\n
Because I do not hope to turn again<\/p>\n
Let these words answer<\/p>\n
For what is done, not to be done again<\/p>\n
May the judgement not be too heavy upon usBecause these wings are no longer wings to fly<\/p>\n
But merely vans to beat the air<\/p>\n
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry<\/p>\n
Smaller and dryer than the will<\/p>\n
Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.<\/p>\n
Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death<\/p>\n
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.<\/p>\n
II<\/p>\n
Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree<\/p>\n
In the cool of the day, having fed to sateityOn my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained<\/p>\n
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said<\/p>\n
Shall these bones live? shall these<\/p>\n
Bones live? And that which had been contained<\/p>\n
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:<\/p>\n
Because of the goodness of this Lady<\/p>\n
And because of her loveliness, and because<\/p>\n
She honours the Virgin in meditation,<\/p>\n
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled<\/p>\n
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love<\/p>\n
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.<\/p>\n
It is this which recovers<\/p>\n
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions<\/p>\n
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn<\/p>\n
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.<\/p>\n
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.<\/p>\n
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten<\/p>\n
And would be forgotten, so I would forget<\/p>\n
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said<\/p>\n
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only<\/p>\n
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping<\/p>\n
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying<\/p>\n
Lady of silences<\/p>\n
Calm and distressed<\/p>\n
Torn and most whole<\/p>\n
Rose of memory<\/p>\n
Rose of forgetfulness<\/p>\n
Exhausted and life-giving<\/p>\n
Worried reposeful<\/p>\n
The single Rose<\/p>\n
Is now the Garden<\/p>\n
Where all loves end<\/p>\n
Terminate torment<\/p>\n
Of love unsatisfied<\/p>\n
The greater torment<\/p>\n
Of love satisfied<\/p>\n
End of the endless<\/p>\n
Journey to no end<\/p>\n
Conclusion of all that<\/p>\n
Is inconclusibleSpeech without word and<\/p>\n
Word of no speech<\/p>\n
Grace to the Mother<\/p>\n
For the Garden<\/p>\n
Where all love ends.<\/p>\n
Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining<\/p>\n
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each other,<\/p>\n
Under a tree in the cool of day, with the blessing of sand,<\/p>\n
Forgetting themselves and each other, united<\/p>\n
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye<\/p>\n
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity<\/p>\n
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.<\/p>\n
III<\/p>\n
At the first turning of the second stair<\/p>\n
I turned and saw below<\/p>\n
The same shape twisted on the banister<\/p>\n
Under the vapour in the fetid air<\/p>\n
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears<\/p>\n
The deceitul face of hope and of despair.<\/p>\n
At the second turning of the second stair<\/p>\n
I left them twisting, turning below;<\/p>\n
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,<\/p>\n
Damp, jagg\u00e8d, like an old man\u2019s mouth drivelling, beyond repair,<\/p>\n
Or the toothed gullet of an ag\u00e8d shark.<\/p>\n
At the first turning of the third stair<\/p>\n
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs\u2019s fruitAnd beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene<\/p>\n
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green<\/p>\n
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.<\/p>\n
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,<\/p>\n
Lilac and brown hair;<\/p>\n
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind<\/p>\n
over the third stair,<\/p>\n
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair<\/p>\n
Climbing the third stair.<\/p>\n
Lord, I am not worthy<\/p>\n
Lord, I am not worthy<\/p>\n
but speak the word only.<\/p>\n
IV<\/p>\n
Who walked between the violet and the violetWhe walked between<\/p>\n
The various ranks of varied green<\/p>\n
Going in white and blue, in Mary\u2019s colour,<\/p>\n
Talking of trivial things<\/p>\n
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolourWho moved among the others as they walked,Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs<\/p>\n
Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand<\/p>\n
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary\u2019s colour,<\/p>\n
Sovegna vosHere are the years that walk between, bearing<\/p>\n
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring<\/p>\n
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing<\/p>\n
White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.<\/p>\n
The new years walk, restoring<\/p>\n
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring<\/p>\n
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem<\/p>\n
The time. Redeem<\/p>\n
The unread vision in the higher dream<\/p>\n
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.<\/p>\n
The silent sister veiled in white and blue<\/p>\n
Between the yews, behind the garden god,<\/p>\n
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke<\/p>\n
no word<\/p>\n
But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down<\/p>\n
Redeem the time, redeem the dream<\/p>\n
The token of the word unheard, unspoken<\/p>\n
Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew<\/p>\n
And after this our exile<\/p>\n
V<\/p>\n
If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent<\/p>\n
If the unheard, unspoken<\/p>\n
Word is unspoken, unheard;<\/p>\n
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,<\/p>\n
The Word without a word, the Word within<\/p>\n
The world and for the world;<\/p>\n
And the light shone in darkness and<\/p>\n
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled<\/p>\n
About the centre of the silent Word.<\/p>\n
O my people, what have I done unto thee.<\/p>\n
Where shall the word be found, where will the word<\/p>\n
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence<\/p>\n
Not on the sea or on the islands, not<\/p>\n
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,<\/p>\n
For those who walk in darkness<\/p>\n
Both in the day time and in the night time<\/p>\n
The right time and the right place are not here<\/p>\n
No place of grace for those who avoid the face<\/p>\n
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and<\/p>\n
deny the voice<\/p>\n
Will the veiled sister pray forThose who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,<\/p>\n
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season,<\/p>\n
time and time, between<\/p>\n
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait<\/p>\n
In darkness? Will the veiled sister prayFor children at the gate<\/p>\n
Who will not go away and cannot pray:<\/p>\n
Pray for those who chose and oppose<\/p>\n
O my people, what have I done unto thee.<\/p>\n
Will the veiled sister between the slender<\/p>\n
Yew trees pray for those who offend her<\/p>\n
And are terrified and cannot surrender<\/p>\n
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks<\/p>\n
In the last desert before the last blue rocks<\/p>\n
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert<\/p>\n
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.<\/p>\n
O my people.<\/p>\n
VI<\/p>\n
Although I do not hope to turn again<\/p>\n
Although I do not hope<\/p>\n
Although I do not hope to turn<\/p>\n
Wavering between the profit and the loss<\/p>\n
In this brief transit where the dreams cross<\/p>\n
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying<\/p>\n
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things<\/p>\n
From the wide window towards the granite shore<\/p>\n
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying<\/p>\n
Unbroken wings<\/p>\n
And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices<\/p>\n
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices<\/p>\n
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel<\/p>\n
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell<\/p>\n
Quickens to recover<\/p>\n
The cry of quail and the whirling plover<\/p>\n
And the blind eye creates<\/p>\n
The empty forms between the ivory gates<\/p>\n
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth<\/p>\n
This is the time of tension between dying and birth<\/p>\n
The place of solitude where three dreams cross<\/p>\n
Between blue rocks<\/p>\n
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away<\/p>\n
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.<\/p>\n
Bless\u00e8d sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit<\/p>\n
of the garden,<\/p>\n
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood<\/p>\n
Teach us to care and not to care<\/p>\n
Teach us to sit still<\/p>\n
Even among these rocks,<\/p>\n
Our peace in His will<\/p>\n
And even among these rocks<\/p>\n
Sister, mother<\/p>\n
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,<\/p>\n
Suffer me not to be separated<\/p>\n
And let my cry come unto Thee.<\/p>\n
Online text \u00a9 1998-2019 Poetry X. All rights reserved.1930<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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