Intro

Intro

martes, 29 de enero de 2008

A DEDICATION TO MY WIFE. T.S. Eliot


To whom I owe the leaping delight
that quickens my senses in our wakingtime
and the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime.

The breathing in unison
of lovers whose bodies smell of each other.
Who think the same thoughts without need of speech,
and babble the same speech without need of meaning...

No peevish winter wind shall chill,
no sullen tropic sun shall wither
the roses in the rose-garden which is ours and ours only

But this dedication is for others to read:
These are private words addressed to you in public.




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