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Showing posts with label
T. S. Eliot
.
Show all posts
Showing posts with label
T. S. Eliot
.
Show all posts
The Waste Land / T. S. Eliot
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I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEADApril is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull r...
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock / T. S. Eliot
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S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma perciocche g...
Ezra Pound: His Metric and Poetry / T. S. Eliot
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I "All talk on modern poetry, by people who know," wrote Mr. Carl Sandburg in Poetry, "ends with dragging in Ezra Pound...
Eeldrop and Appleplex / T. S. Eliot
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Eeldrop and Appleplex rented two small rooms in a disreputable part of town. Here they sometimes came at nightfall, here they someti...
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