The Waste Land

the waste land The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot vocalisation 1 - Burial of the Dead April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the at rest(predicate) land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with gush rain. Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried-out tubers. Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee With a lavish of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. hive away gar keine Russin, stamm aus Litauen, echt deutsch.

And when we were children, staying at the arch-dukes, My cousins, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And rectify we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow step to the fore of this stony rubbish? Son of man, You canot say, or guess, for you know all A heap of broken imag...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com

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