okay so re-reading my previous post, i think its terrible. absolutely terrible. i guess i would call it a heroic, or idiotic, attempt because only someone so brave (or stupid) would post such a badly phrased entry. i thought i had an interesting idea for a post and i guess with a bit more time i could make something more decent of it but i've neither the time nor the talent to so i'll do what most modern writers do and write an entry that is 'inspired', when the actual word should actually be 'plagarized'.

anyway, below is a text i wrote 'inspired' from T.S. Elliot's 'The Wasteland'.*


What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the deal tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is a shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu.
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
"They called me the hyacinth girl."
-Yet when e came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Oed' und leer das Meer.

i feel so much better now.

*if you don't get it by now, its an excerpt.