艾略特荒原中英对照

(一)艾略特是中国现代朦胧诗歌的鼻祖
在网上，很多对中国现代诗歌(包括朦胧诗歌)起源和继承的评论是似是而非
的。

这可能是由于一些国内不懂外文的评论家的错误导向所致，也有可能是由于
自己就没有理解好中国的现代诗歌，而混枭了自己的观点，也误人子弟。

中国的
现代诗歌，究其源泉是由于五四时期由胡适等人发起的白话文运动，白话诗也就
应运产生。

一个很有意思的现象是，很多著名的作家严肃的学者并没有留下多少
白话诗歌，只有一些类似嘻皮士的文人们，象刘半农，徐志摩等等，为了和女人
的打情骂俏而留下过一首半首。

中国早期的现代诗歌应该是继承于欧洲而不是美洲。

这得益于一些留学欧洲
学人的推荐和传播。

象卞之琳，徐志摩，李金发等等，所写的诗歌继承了欧洲维
多利亚式的风格，并没有多少的创新，节奏的和谐和词澡的华丽是其主要的特点，
但并没有什么心灵的震动，是沃斯瓦斯和波尔莱特在中国的翻版，甚至从中可以
看到雪莱和拜伦的影子。

从中很少看到美洲惠特曼的影子，大概惠诗歌中的自然
和平民的形象和这些留学欧洲的没落贵族的口吻不太合适所致。

很多人把这几个
人归结为现代朦胧诗歌的起源。

其实是不当的。

这时候的诗歌还只能是现代诗歌
而不是朦胧诗歌，当然，相对于旧体诗歌意象和词汇的运用已经有了朦胧的感觉。

中国诗歌在七十年代末八十年代初期，有一个特别辉煌的复兴时期。

一批经
过文革，上过山下过乡的知识青年们用在煤油灯下的知识积累，带着对生活的感
性体验，在马可雅夫斯基和莱蒙托夫的指引下开始中国诗歌的新一轮革命。

这期
间杰出的诗人有北岛，舒婷等。

在八十年代的中末期，中国诗坛终于迎来了大爆炸的时期。

在理论领袖谢冕的指引下，一批批锐意的具有现代意识的中国诗人们
以严辰主编的诗歌报为阵地，纷纷打出旗号，成立山头，一时间中国的诗歌流派
竟然有几十家之多。

所写的诗歌讦曲骜牙，常人难以读懂。

这就是后来广被非议
的现代朦胧诗。

为什么称为现代朦胧诗？这是为了区别
于以唐朝李商隐为代表的古体朦胧诗
歌。

中国的现代朦胧诗直接继承于艾略特，Pound等人的诗风,摈弃了近代诗歌徐
志摩等人所提倡的维多利亚的模式。

(EzraPound是和T.S.Eliot同一时代的诗人。

他有一首特别著名的诗【在一个地铁站口】，短短两句，却成为美国60年代诗歌
革命的启动之作)。

对艾略特,国内的文学史书鲜有介绍，他们多数倾向于介绍19
世纪末和20世纪初的文学大家和诗人。

记得有一本人民文学出版社出版的【外国诗】，好象是收录了艾略特的【荒原】，没有什么介绍，似乎国内对他的地位不
是特别的推崇。

因此，不揣简陋，在此将T.S.Eliout介绍一番，并将其长诗“
The Waste Land" 翻译一部份。

(二)T.S.Eliot简介
在诗歌和文学评论上，作为一个诗人，Thomas Stearns Eliot占据着独一无
二的地位。

他不仅仅是靠写作来表现自己的情感，对定义所谓的现代派的风格和
趣味也有着莫大的帮助。

他们摈弃了叙述性的方式及贵族式的维多里压风格，代
之于精确聚焦而又让人惊奇的意象来表达，那种圆滑的充满诱惑而又有讽刺韵味
的语言对美国现代诗歌有着巨大的影响。

当然这种影响不是直接正式的而是从思
想和哲学的高度来影响的。

他的作品中弥漫着一种寻求人生意义的味道；这种对
意义的寻求使得他在1922年创作了形容现代文化为一种荒原的著名作品：“The Waste Land."在此诗中，他把各种意象进行了对比排列：过去的高贵和现代的腐
烂，远期和近期的文明，并用圣经的，神话的以及佛教的幻象去呼唤一个复杂焦
灼而又脆弱的现代灵魂。

作为一战后表现文化危机的里程碑式的作品,Eliot在这
首诗歌中采用的对精神的内视及在形式上的创新成为符号主义诗人们(是视觉艺
术家和手工艺艺术家合而为一的人)的传统特征。

英国和美国都声称艾略特是他们国家文化的一部份。

1888年9月26日他生于St.Louis的一个书香世家，在Harvard University接受了他的本科和研究生教育
，并于1915年移民英国，1927年获得公民身份。

在哈佛大学期间，他受反浪漫主
义的人类学家，哲学家和美学家的影响较大，并撰写了博士论文去研究F.H. Bradley的”表象和现实“。

1908年后，他接触了法国的符号主义艺术,对其采用
的幻象，潜意识及似是而非的语言倍加推崇，并把他们实践于自己的诗歌作品中。

搬到英国后，他继续他的诗人生涯，并开始写评论，散文，和戏剧，同时还再
作编辑。

1948年他获得了Nobel Prize.
【荒原】是艾略特最著名的一首长诗。

他是把他献给Erza Pound的，因为他
帮他修改了手稿。

在诗歌中，他用典的范围极广，从Shakespear，到但丁，波特
莱尔，瓦格纳等。

还引用了佛经，民歌以及许多人类学家的作品。

在【荒原】中
，他描写了处于精神和文化危机中的现代社会以及从现代社会中寻求到的支离破
碎的经验和相对稳定的文化遗产的的冲突。

从这方面说，【荒原】是一部寻求精
神上的家园的诗歌，并使得艾略特斐声中外。

说到【荒原】，就不能不说说其技术上的创新。

断句的技巧让人感叹，并故
意地运用了一些承转起合的段落和语言以期读者自己想象从而把这些话所隐含的
意思构成一个整体的图画。

在诗歌中，他摈弃了直来直去的写法，采用了突然的
断句并在此加入一些完全迥异的场景的介绍或者解释，可能是优美的描写突然转
到一种酒吧式的交谈，可能是从爱丽莎白的古典突然转到当代的场景，也有可能
是从正式的书面语言转到了口语。

这些帮助他表现了诗歌所要表现的文化的不完
整性，使得他可以探讨符号主义或者幻象所承载的意义上的重担--吸引注意力到
其本身，并昭示现代艺术家的自我表现和自我意识。

(三)【荒原】(TheWasteLand)译文
【荒原】共有五节，分别是：
I. The Burial of The Dead
II. A Game of Chess
III. The Fire Sermon
IV. Death by Water
V. What the Thunder Said
NAM
sibyllam quidem Cuimis egō ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere，et cum illi pueri dicerent:
∑ιβνλλατιθελειζ; repondebat illa:
áπóθαν
εινθελ ω."
（“是的，我自己亲眼看见古米的西比尔吊在一个笼子里。

孩子们在
问她：西比尔，你要什么的时候，她回答说，我要死。

”）
For Ezra Pound
il miglior fabbro.
（献给埃兹拉?庞德
•最卓越的匠人）
艾略特《荒原The Wa
ste Land.》（原文及译
本）
作者: T.S. Eliot (1888
–1965). The Waste La
nd. 1922.
The Waste Land
I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
APRIL is the cruellest month, br
eeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixi
ng
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering 5
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming ov
er the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopp
ed in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into th
e Hofgarten, 10
And drank coffee, and talked for
an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' au s Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, stay ing at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie, 15
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and g o south in the winter.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son o f man, 20
You cannot say, or guess, for yo u know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelt er, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock, 25
(Come in under the shadow of t his red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening risin g to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handfu l of dust. 30
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu.
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
'You gave me hyacinths first a y ear ago; 35
'They called me the hyacinth girl. '
—Yet when we came back, late, f rom the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair we t, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew not hing, 40
Looking into the heart of light, t he silence.
Od' und leer das Meer.
Madame Sosostris, famous clairv oyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woma n in Europe, 45
With a wicked pack of cards. He re, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoen ician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his e yes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations. 50
Here is the man with three stav es, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed mercha nt, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water. 55
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone, Tell her I bring the horoscope m yself:
One must be so careful these da ys.
Unreal City, 60
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bri dge, so many,
I had not thought death had un done so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes bef ore his feet. 65
Flowed up the hill and down Ki ng William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and sto pped him, crying 'Stetson!
'You who were with me in the s hips at Mylae! 70
'That corpse you planted last yea r in your garden,
'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
'Or has the sudden frost disturbe d its bed?
'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that 's friend to men,
'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again! 75
'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon se mblable,—mon frère!'
II. A GAME OF CHESS
THE Chair she sat in, like a bur nished throne,
Glowed on the marble, where th e glass
Held up by standards wrought w ith fruited vines
From which a golden Cupidon p eeped out 80
(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)
Doubled the flames of sevenbran ched candelabra
Reflecting light upon the table as
The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,
From satin cases poured in rich profusion; 85
In vials of ivory and coloured gl ass
Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,
Unguent, powdered, or liquid—tr oubled, confused
And drowned the sense in odour s; stirred by the air
That freshened from the window, these ascended 90
In fattening the prolonged candle -flames,
Flung their smoke into the laque aria,
Stirring the pattern on the coffer ed ceiling.
Huge sea-wood fed with copper Burned green and orange, frame d by the coloured stone, 95
In which sad light a carvèd dolp hin swam.
Above the antique mantel was di splayed
As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene
The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king
So rudely forced; yet there the n ightingale 100
Filled all the desert with inviolab le voice
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
'Jug Jug' to dirty ears.
And other withered stumps of ti me
Were told upon the walls; starin g forms 105
Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.
Footsteps shuffled on the stair. Under the firelight, under the br ush, her hair
Spread out in fiery points Glowed into words, then would be savagely still. 110
'My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.
'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
'I never know what you are thin king. Think.'
I think we are in rats' alley 115 Where the dead men lost their b ones.
'What is that noise?'
The wind under the door.
'What is that noise now? What i s the wind doing?'
Nothing again nothing. 120
'Do
'You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember
'Nothing?'
I remember
Those are pearls that were his e yes. 125
'Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?'
But
O O O O that Shakespeherian R ag—
It's so elegant
So intelligent 130
'What shall I do now? What shal l I do?'
'I shall rush out as I am, and w alk the street
'With my hair down, so. What s hall we do to-morrow?
'What shall we ever do?'
The hot water at ten. 135
And if it rains, a closed car at f our.
And we shall play a game of che ss,
Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.
When Lil's husband got demobbe d, I said—
I didn't mince my words, I said to her myself, 140
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME Now Albert's coming back, make yourself a bit smart.
He'll want to know what you do ne with that money he gave you
To get yourself some teeth. He d id, I was there.
You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set, 145
He said, I swear, I can't bear to look at you.
And no more can't I, I said, and think of poor Albert,
He's been in the army four year s, he wants a good time,
And if you don't give it him, the re's others will, I said. Oh is there, she said. Something o' that, I said. 150
Then I'll know who to thank, sh e said, and give me a straight lo ok.
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME If you don't like it you can get on with it, I said.
Others can pick and choose if yo u can't.
But if Albert makes off, it won't be for lack of telling. 155
You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.
(And her only thirty-one.)
I can't help it, she said, pulling
a long face,
It's them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.
(She's had five already, and near ly died of young George.) 160 The chemist said it would be alr ight, but I've never been the sa me.
You are a proper fool, I said. Well, if Albert won't leave you al one, there it is, I said,
What you get married for if you don't want children?
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME 165
Well, that Sunday Albert was ho me, they had a hot gammon, And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot—HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Go onight May. Goonight. 170
Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.
Good night, ladies, good night, s weet ladies, good night, good nig ht.
III. THE FIRE SERMON
THE river's tent is broken: the l ast fingers of leaf
Clutch and sink into the wet ban k. The wind
Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. 175 Sweet Thames, run softly, till I e nd my song.
The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,
Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard bo xes, cigarette ends
Or other testimony of summer n ights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering h eirs of city directors; 180 Departed, have left no addresses.
By the waters of Leman I sat do wn and wept...
Sweet Thames, run softly till I e nd my song,
Sweet Thames, run softly, for I s peak not loud or long.
But at my back in a cold blast I hear 185
The rattle of the bones, and chu ckle spread from ear to ear.
A rat crept softly through the ve getation
Dragging its slimy belly on the b ank
While I was fishing in the dull c anal
On a winter evening round behi nd the gashouse 190
Musing upon the king my brothe r's wreck
And on the king my father's dea th before him. White bodies naked on the low damp ground
And bones cast in a little low dr y garret,
Rattled by the rat's foot only, ye ar to year. 195
But at my back from time to ti me I hear
The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring
Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the s pring.
O the moon shone bright on Mr s. Porter
And on her daughter 200
They wash their feet in soda wat er
Et, O ces voix d'enfants, chantan t dans la coupole!
Twit twit twit
Jug jug jug jug jug jug
So rudely forc'd. 205
Tereu
Unreal City
Under the brown fog of a winter noon
Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merc hant
Unshaven, with a pocket full of currants 210
C.i.f. London: documents at sight,
Asked me in demotic French
To luncheon at the Cannon Stree t Hotel
Followed by a weekend at the M etropole.
At the violet hour, when the eye s and back 215
Turn upward from the desk, whe n the human engine waits
Like a taxi throbbing waiting,
I Tiresias, though blind, throbbin g between two lives,
Old man with wrinkled female b reasts, can see
At the violet hour, the evening h our that strives 220 Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,
The typist home at teatime, clear s her breakfast, lights
Her stove, and lays out food in tins.
Out of the window perilously spr ead
Her drying combinations touched by the sun's last rays, 225
On the divan are piled (at night her bed)
Stockings, slippers, camisoles, an d stays.
I Tiresias, old man with wrinkle d dugs
Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest—
I too awaited the expected guest. 230
He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,
A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,
One of the low on whom assura nce sits
As a silk hat on a Bradford milli onaire.
The time is now propitious, as h e guesses, 235
The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,
Endeavours to engage her in car esses
Which still are unreproved, if un desired.
Flushed and decided, he assaults
at once;
Exploring hands encounter no de fence; 240
His vanity requires no response, And makes a welcome of indiffer ence.
(And I Tiresias have foresuffered all
Enacted on this same divan or b ed;
I who have sat by Thebes below the wall 245
And walked among the lowest of the dead.)
Bestows on final patronising kiss,
And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit...
She turns and looks a moment i n the glass,
Hardly aware of her departed lo ver; 250
Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:
'Well now that's done: and I'm g lad it's over.'
When lovely woman stoops to fo lly and
Paces about her room again, alo ne,
She smoothes her hair with auto matic hand, 255
And puts a record on the gramo phone.
'This music crept by me upon th e waters'
And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street.
O City city, I can sometimes hea r
Beside a public bar in Lower Th ames Street, 260
The pleasant whining of a mand oline
And a clatter and a chatter from within
Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls
Of Magnus Martyr hold Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold. 265
The river sweats
Oil and tar
The barges drift
With the turning tide
Red sails 270
Wide
To leeward, swing on the heavy spar.
The barges wash
Drifting logs
Down Greenwich reach 275 Past the Isle of Dogs.
Weialala leia
Wallala leialala
Elizabeth and Leicester
Beating oars 280
The stern was formed
A gilded shell
Red and gold
The brisk swell
Rippled both shores 285 Southwest wind
Carried down stream
The peal of bells
White towers
Weialala leia 290
Wallala leialala
'Trams and dusty trees. Highbury bore me. Richmond an d Kew
Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.' 295
'My feet are at Moorgate, and m y heart
Under my feet. After the event He wept. He promised "a new st art".
I made no comment. What shoul d I resent?'
'On Margate Sands. 300
I can connect
Nothing with nothing.
The broken fingernails of dirty h ands.
My people humble people who e xpect
Nothing.' 305
la la
To Carthage then I came Burning burning burning burning
O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest 310 burning
IV. DEATH BY WATER
PHLEBAS the Phoenician, a fort night dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep seas swell
And the profit and loss.
A current under sea 315
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and l
ook to windward, 320 Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.
V. WHAT THE THUNDER SAID
AFTER the torchlight red on swe aty faces
After the frosty silence in the ga rdens
After the agony in stony places The shouting and the crying 325
Prison and place and reverberati on
Of thunder of spring over distan t mountains
He who was living is now dead We who were living are now dyi ng
With a little patience 330
Here is no water but only rock Rock and no water and the sand y road
The road winding above among t he mountains
Which are mountains of rock wit hout water
If there were water we should st op and drink 335
Amongst the rock one cannot sto p or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongs t the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without r ain
There is not even solitude in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and s narl
From doors of mudcracked hous es
If there were water 345
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water
A spring 350
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock 355
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water
Who is the third who walks alw ays beside you?
When I count, there are only yo u and I together 360
But when I look ahead up the w hite road
There is always another one wal king beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man o r a woman
—But who is that on the other s ide of you? 365
What is that sound high in the
air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes s warming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth
Ringed by the flat horizon only 370
What is the city over the mount ains
Cracks and reforms and bursts i n the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria Vienna London 375
Unreal
A woman drew her long black h air out tight
And fiddled whisper music on th ose strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings 3 80
And crawled head downward do wn a blackened wall
And upside down in air were to wers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that ke pt the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.
In this decayed hole among the mountains 385
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about t he chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.
It has no windows, and the door
swings,
Dry bones can harm no one. 39 0
Only a cock stood on the rooftre e
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a d amp gust
Bringing rain
Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves 395
Waited for rain, while the black clouds
Gathered far distant, over Himav ant.
The jungle crouched, humped in silence.
Then spoke the thunder
D A 400
Datta: what have we given?
My friend, blood shaking my hea rt
The awful daring of a moment's surrender
Which an age of prudence can n ever retract
By this, and this only, we have existed 405
Which is not to be found in our obituaries
Or in memories draped by the b eneficent spider
Or under seals broken by the lea n solicitor
In our empty rooms
D A 410
Dayadhvam: I have heard the ke y
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confir
ms a prison
Only at nightfall, aetherial rumo
urs 415
Revive for a moment a broken C oriolanus
D A
Damyata: The boat responded Gaily, to the hand expert with s ail and oar
The sea was calm, your heart wo uld have responded 420
Gaily, when invited, beating obed ient
To controlling hands
I sat upon the shore
Fishing, with the arid plain behi nd me
Shall I at least set my lands in order? 425
London Bridge is falling down fa lling down falling down
Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affin a
Quando fiam ceu chelidon—O sw allow swallow
Le Prince d'Aquitaine àla tour a bolie
These fragments I have shored a gainst my ruins 430
Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo 's mad againe.
Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.
Shantih shantih shantih
-------------------------
NOTES
Not only the title, but the plan and a good deal of the incidenta l
symbolism of the poem were sug gested by Miss Jessie L. Weston' s
book on the Grail legend: From Ritual to Romance (Macmillan). Indeed, so deeply am I indebted, Miss Weston's book will elucida te
the difficulties of the poem muc h better than my notes can do; and I
recommend it (apart from the gr eat interest of the book itself) to
any who think such elucidation of the poem worth the trouble. To
another work of anthropology I am indebted in general, one whi ch has
influenced our generation profou ndly; I mean The Golden Bough; I
have used especially the two vol umes Adonis, Attis, Osiris. Anyo ne
who is acquainted with these wo rks will immediately recognize in the
poem certain references to veget ation ceremonies.
I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
Line 20 Cf. Ezekiel 2:7.
23. Cf. Ecclesiastes 12:5.
31. V. Tristan und Isolde, i, vers es 5–8.
42. Id. iii, verse 24.
46. I am not familiar with the e xact constitution of the Tarot pa ck
of cards, from which I have obvi ously departed to suit my own convenience. The Hanged Man, a member of the traditional pack, fits
my purpose in two ways: becaus e he is associated in my mind w ith the
Hanged God of Frazer, and beca use I associate him with the hoo ded
figure in the passage of the disci ples to Emmaus in Part V. The Phoenician Sailor and the Merch ant appear later; also the 'crowd s of
people', and Death by Water is e xecuted in Part IV. The Man wit h
Three Staves (an authentic mem ber of the Tarot pack) I associat e,
quite arbitrarily, with the Fisher King himself. 60. Cf. Baudelaire:
Fourmillante cité, citépleine de rêves,
Oùle spectre en plein jour raccr oche le passant.
63. Cf. Inferno, iii. 55–7:
si lunga tratta
di gente, ch'io non avrei mai cre duto
che morte tanta n'avesse disfatta.
64. Cf. Inferno, iv. 25–27: Quivi, secondo che per ascoltare,
non avea pianto, ma' che di sosp iri,
che l'aura eterna facevan tremare.
68. A phenomenon which I have often noticed.
74. Cf. the Dirge in Webster's W hite Devil.
76. V. Baudelaire, Preface to Fle urs du Mal.
II. A GAME OF CHESS
77. Cf. Antony and Cleopatra, II. ii. 190.
92. Laquearia. V. Aeneid, I. 726:
dependent lychni laquearibus aur eis incensi, et noctem flammis fu nalia vincunt.
98. Sylvan scene. V. Milton, Para dise Lost, iv. 140.
99. V. Ovid, Metamorphoses, vi, Philomela.
100. Cf. Part III, l. 204.
115. Cf. Part III, l. 195.
118. Cf. Webster: 'Is the wind in that door still?'
126. Cf. Part I, l. 37, 48.
138. Cf. the game of chess in Mi ddleton's Women beware Women.
III. THE FIRE SERMON
176. V. Spenser, Prothalamion. 192. Cf. The Tempest, I. ii. 196. Cf. Marvell, To His Coy Mis tress.
197. Cf. Day, Parliament of Bees:
When of the sudden, listening, y ou shall hear,
A noise of horns and hunting, w hich shall bring
Actaeon to Diana in the spring, Where all shall see her naked sk in...
199. I do not know the origin of the ballad from which these lin es
are taken: it was reported to me from Sydney, Australia.
202. V. Verlaine, Parsifal.
210. The currants were quoted a t a price 'carriage and insurance
free to London'; and the Bill of Lading, etc., were to be handed to
the buyer upon payment of the s ight draft.
218. Tiresias, although a mere sp ectator and not indeed
a 'character', is yet the most imp ortant personage in the poem, uniting all the rest. Just as the one-eyed merchant, seller of currants, melts into the Phoenici an Sailor, and the latter is not
wholly distinct from Ferdinand P rince of Naples, so all the wome n
are one woman, and the two sex es meet in Tiresias. What Tiresia s
sees, in fact, is the substance of the poem. The whole passage fro m
Ovid is of great anthropological i nterest:
...Cum Iunone iocos et 'maior ve stra profecto est
Quam, quae contingit maribus', d ixisse, 'voluptas.'
Illa negat; placuit quae sit sente ntia docti
Quaerere Tiresiae: venus huic era t utraque nota.
Nam duo magnorum viridi coeun tia silva
Corpora serpentum baculi violave rat ictu
Deque viro factus, mirabile, femi na septem
Egerat autumnos; octavo rursus eosdem
Vidit et 'est vestrae si tanta pote ntia plagae',
Dixit 'ut auctoris sortem in contr aria mutet,
Nunc quoque vos feriam!' percus sis anguibus isdem
Forma prior rediit genetivaque v enit imago.
Arbiter hic igitur sumptus de lite iocosa
Dicta Iovis firmat; gravius Saturn ia iusto
Nec pro materia fertur doluisse s uique
Iudicis aeterna damnavit lumina nocte, At pater omnipotens (neque eni m licet inrita cuiquam
Facta dei fecisse deo) pro lumine adempto
Scire futura dedit poenamque lev avit honore.
221. This may not appear as exa ct as Sappho's lines, but I had i n
mind the 'longshore' or 'dory' fis herman, who returns at nightfall.
253. V. Goldsmith, the song in T he Vicar of Wakefield.
257. V. The Tempest, as above.
264. The interior of St. Magnus Martyr is to my mind one of the
finest among Wren's interiors. Se e The Proposed Demolition of Nineteen City Churches (P. S. Ki ng & Son, Ltd.).
266. The Song of the (three) Th ames-daughters begins here. Fro m line
292 to 306 inclusive they speak in turn. V. Götterdammerung, III.
i: The Rhine-daughters.
279. V. Froude, Elizabeth, vol. I, ch. iv, letter of De Quadra to Philip of Spain:
In the afternoon we were in a b arge, watching the games on the
river. (The queen) was alone wit h Lord Robert and myself on th e
poop, when they began to talk n onsense, and went so far that Lo rd
Robert at last said, as I was on the spot there was no reason wh y
they should not be married if th e queen pleased.
293. Cf. Purgatorio, V. 133:
'Ricorditi di me, che son la Pia; Siena mi fe', disfecemi Maremma. '
307. V. St. Augustine's Confessio ns: 'to Carthage then I came, wh ere
a cauldron of unholy loves sang all about mine ears'.
308. The complete text of the B uddha's Fire Sermon (which corresponds in importance to the Sermon on the Mount) from w hich
these words are taken, will be fo und translated in the late Henry
Clarke Warren's Buddhism in Tr anslation (Harvard Oriental Serie s).
Mr. Warren was one of the great pioneers of Buddhist studies in the
Occident.
309. From St. Augustine's Confes sions again. The collocation of these two representatives of east ern and western asceticism, as t he
culmination of this part of the p oem, is not an accident.
V. WHAT THE THUNDER SAID
In the first part of Part V three themes are employed: the journe y
to Emmaus, the approach to the Chapel Perilous (see Miss West on's
book), and the present decay of eastern Europe.
357. This is Turdus aonalaschkae pallasii, the hermit-thrush which I
have heard in Quebec County. C hapman says (Handbook of Birds in
Eastern North America) 'it is mo st at home in secluded woodland and
thickety retreats.... Its notes are。