Page:The waste land(1922)Eliot Boni.djvu/16

 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 we 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.