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Prufrock and Other Observations by T. S. Eliot

«·Conversation Galante · Prufrock and Other Observations by T. S. Eliot·»

La Figlia Che Piange

Stand on the highest pavement of the stair– Lean on a garden urn– Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair– Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise– Fling them to the ground and turn With a fugitive resentment in your eyes: But weave, weave the sunlight in your hair. So I would have had him leave, So I would have had her stand and grieve, So he would have left As the soul leaves the body torn and bruised As the mind deserts the body it has used. I should find Some way incomparably light and deft, Some way we both should understand, Simple and faithless as a smile and shake of the hand. She turned away, but with the autumn weather Compelled my imagination many days, Many days and many hours: Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers. And I wonder how they should have been together! I should have lost a gesture and a pose. Sometimes these cogitations still amaze The troubled midnight and the noon’s repose.

«·Conversation Galante · Prufrock and Other Observations by T. S. Eliot·»