(...)
After such knowledge, what forgiveness? Think now
History has many cunning passages, contrived corridors
And issues, deceives with whispering ambitions,
Guides us by vanaties. Think now
She gives when our attention is distracted
And what she gives, gives with such supple confusions
That giving famishes the craving. Gives too late
What's not believed in, or if still believed,
In memory only, reconsidered passion. Gives too soon
Into weak hands, what's thought can be dispensed with
Till the refusal propagates a fear. Think
Neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural vices
Are fathered by our heroism. Virtues
Are forced upon by our impudent crimes.
These tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing three.
(...)
I would meet you upon this honestly.
I that was too near your heart was removed therefrom
To lose beauty in terror, terror in inquisition.
I have lost my passion: why should I need to keep it
Since what is kept must be adulterated?
I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch:
How should I use them for your closer contact?
T.S. Eliot, Selected Poems: Including The Waste Land, The Hollow Men, and Ash Wednesday, Harvest/ HBJ Book, 1964.
After such knowledge, what forgiveness? Think now
History has many cunning passages, contrived corridors
And issues, deceives with whispering ambitions,
Guides us by vanaties. Think now
She gives when our attention is distracted
And what she gives, gives with such supple confusions
That giving famishes the craving. Gives too late
What's not believed in, or if still believed,
In memory only, reconsidered passion. Gives too soon
Into weak hands, what's thought can be dispensed with
Till the refusal propagates a fear. Think
Neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural vices
Are fathered by our heroism. Virtues
Are forced upon by our impudent crimes.
These tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing three.
(...)
I would meet you upon this honestly.
I that was too near your heart was removed therefrom
To lose beauty in terror, terror in inquisition.
I have lost my passion: why should I need to keep it
Since what is kept must be adulterated?
I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch:
How should I use them for your closer contact?
T.S. Eliot, Selected Poems: Including The Waste Land, The Hollow Men, and Ash Wednesday, Harvest/ HBJ Book, 1964.
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