What do you think?
Rate this book
Poesia
Certain of these poems first appeared in Poetry, Blast, Others, The Little Review, and Art and Letters. Contents: Gerontion; Burbank with a Baedeker: Bleistein with a Cigar; Sweeney Erect; A Cooking Egg; Le Directeur; Melange adultere de tout; Lune de Miel; The Hippopotamus; Dans le Restaurant; Whispers of Immortality; Mr. Eliot's Sunday Morning Service; Sweeney Among the Nightingales; The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock; Portrait of a Lady; Preludes; Rhapsody on a Windy Night; Morning at the Window; The Boston Evening Transcript; Aunt Helen; Cousin Nancy; Mr. Apollinax; Hysteria; Conversation Galante; La Figlia Che Pianga.
313 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1919
90 people are currently reading
921 people want to read
About the author
T.S. Eliot
1,084 books5,685 followersThomas Stearns Eliot was a poet, dramatist and literary critic. He received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1948 "for his outstanding, pioneer contribution to present-day poetry." He wrote the poems The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, The Waste Land, The Hollow Men, Ash Wednesday, and Four Quartets; the plays Murder in the Cathedral and The Cocktail Party; and the essay Tradition and the Individual Talent. Eliot was born an American, moved to the United Kingdom in 1914 (at the age of 25), and became a British subject in 1927 at the age of 39.
See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T.S._Eliot
See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T.S._Eliot
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 61 reviews
May 20, 2016
Εξοικειωμένη με το έργο του Eliot στο παρελθόν, -βέβαια μέσα από μια άλλη οπτική, τον έμαθα μελετώντας την επιρροή του στον δικό μας Σεφέρη- μου ήταν σχετικά εύκολο στο παρόν να τον κατανοήσω. Ο λόγος του κυλάει σαν ρυάκι, ενώ η σημαντικότητα του δεν βρίσκεται μόνο στα νοήματα, αλλά στον ίδιο τον ήχο που παράγει ο λόγος του. Για αυτό τον λόγο χωρίς να θέλω να αναιρέσω το σπουδαίο έργο της μετάφρασης, βρέθηκα να ασχολούμαι μόνο με τα πρωτότυπα.
Traduttore traditore (μεταφραστής προδότης) λένε οι Ιταλοί και όσον αφορά την ποίηση, μου είναι αδύνατον να διαφωνήσω.
And I then: “Some one frames upon the keys
That exquisite nocturne, with which we explain
The night and moonshine; music which we seize
To body forth our own vacuity.” 10
She then: “Does this refer to me?” “
Oh no, it is I who am inane.”
T. S. Eliot (1888–1965). Prufrock and Other Observations. 1920. Conversation Galante
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 dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is 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.
T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land, 1922.
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men, 1925 .
Traduttore traditore (μεταφραστής προδότης) λένε οι Ιταλοί και όσον αφορά την ποίηση, μου είναι αδύνατον να διαφωνήσω.
And I then: “Some one frames upon the keys
That exquisite nocturne, with which we explain
The night and moonshine; music which we seize
To body forth our own vacuity.” 10
She then: “Does this refer to me?” “
Oh no, it is I who am inane.”
T. S. Eliot (1888–1965). Prufrock and Other Observations. 1920. Conversation Galante
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 dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is 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.
T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land, 1922.
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men, 1925 .
Read
November 18, 2017I've always thought of poetry as something very similar to music. Just like a song, a poem that speaks to you is not meant to be read only once. You read it again and again in order to let it soak, and return to it from time to time whenever your mood asks for it. As opposed to songs, however, many poems usually take much effort in order to be fully grasped, and Eliot's poems definitely belong to that category.
This bilingual edition includes his most well-known poems: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, Gerontion, The Waste Land, Ash Wednesday and Four Quartets. I can't tell much about the translation because I read the originals but the edition as a whole, apart from a few typos here and there, left me pretty satisfied, especially considering its low price.
As for Eliot's poetry, I think it's worth all the effort one can give it. His images of utter darkness briefly illuminated by glimmers of hope is certainly my cup of tea, although I have many miles yet to cover in his poetic field.
This bilingual edition includes his most well-known poems: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, Gerontion, The Waste Land, Ash Wednesday and Four Quartets. I can't tell much about the translation because I read the originals but the edition as a whole, apart from a few typos here and there, left me pretty satisfied, especially considering its low price.
As for Eliot's poetry, I think it's worth all the effort one can give it. His images of utter darkness briefly illuminated by glimmers of hope is certainly my cup of tea, although I have many miles yet to cover in his poetic field.
January 7, 2025
For a poet of his stature, Eliot produced relatively few poems. He was aware of this even early in his career; he wrote to J. H. Woods, one of his former Harvard professors, "My reputation in London is built upon one small volume of verse, and is kept up by printing two or three more poems in a year. The only thing that matters is that these should be perfect in their kind, so that each should be an event."
Typically, Eliot first published his poems individually in periodicals or in small books or pamphlets and then collected them in books. His first collection was Prufrock and Other Observations (1917). In 1920, he published more poems in Ara Vos Prec (London) and Poems: 1920 (New York). These collections had the same poems (in a different order) except that "Ode" in the British edition was replaced with "Hysteria" in the American edition.
During an interview in 1959, Eliot said of his nationality and its role in his work: "I'd say that my poetry has obviously more in common with my distinguished contemporaries in America than with anything written in my generation in England. That I'm sure of. ... It wouldn't be what it is, and I imagine it wouldn't be so good; putting it as modestly as I can, it wouldn't be what it is if I'd been born in England, and it wouldn't be what it is if I'd stayed in America. It's a combination of things. But in its sources, in its emotional springs, it comes from America."
The stand-out poem from Eliot's second collection is "Gerontion". The title is Greek for "little old man," and the poem is an interior monologue relating the opinions and impressions of an elderly man, which describes Europe after World War I through the eyes of a man who has lived most of his life in the 19th century. Two years after it was published, Eliot considered including the poem as a preface to "The Waste Land", but was talked out of this by Ezra Pound: "I do not advise printing Gerontion as preface. One don't miss it at all as the thing now stands. To be more lucid still, let me say that I advise you NOT to print Gerontion as prelude." (Ezra Pound, the man you are. THANK YOU. I mean, I love "Gerontin" but it does not belong before "The Waste Land", which so excellently stands on its own and is in a league of its own.)
"Gerontion" is one of the handful of poems that Eliot composed between the end of World War I in 1918 and his work on "The Waste Land" in 1921. During that time, Eliot was working at Lloyds Bank and editing The Egoist, devoting most of his literary energy to writing review articles for periodicals. When he published the two collections in February, 1920 Ara Vos Prec, "Gerontion" was almost the only poem he had never offered to the public before and was placed first in both volumes.
Two earlier versions of the poem can be found, the original typescript of the poem as well as that version with comments by Ezra Pound. In the typescript, the name of the poem is "Gerousia", referring to the name of the Council of the Elders at Sparta.
"Gerontion" opens with an epigraph (from Shakespeare's play Measure for Measure—which is literally my favorite Shakespeare play!!!) which states: "Thou hast nor youth nor age / But as it were an after dinner sleep / Dreaming of both".
Many of the themes within "Gerontion" are present throughout Eliot's later works, especially within "The Waste Land". This is especially true of the internal struggle within the poem and the narrator's "waiting for rain". Time is also altered by allowing past and present to be superimposed, and a series of places and characters connected to various cultures are introduced.
Kazin suggests that in lines 33–36 the poem attempts to show how Eliot tells his generation that history is "nothing but human depravity": "After such knowledge, what forgiveness? Think now / History has many cunning passages, contrived corridors / And issues, deceives with whispering ambitions, / Guides us by vanities." HULLOOO??? Relevant much??? Accurate much??
The phrase "wilderness of mirrors" from the poem has been alluded to by many other writers and artists. It has been used as the titles of plays by Van Badham and Charles Evered, of novels by Max Frisch, and of albums by bands such as Waysted. Another prominent line in the poem, "In depraved May, dogwood and chestnut, flowering judas / To be eaten, to be divided, to be drunk", is the origin of the title of Katherine Anne Porter's first collection of short stories, Flowering Judas and Other Stories (1930). Thomas Stearns, the influencer you were. <3
Typically, Eliot first published his poems individually in periodicals or in small books or pamphlets and then collected them in books. His first collection was Prufrock and Other Observations (1917). In 1920, he published more poems in Ara Vos Prec (London) and Poems: 1920 (New York). These collections had the same poems (in a different order) except that "Ode" in the British edition was replaced with "Hysteria" in the American edition.
During an interview in 1959, Eliot said of his nationality and its role in his work: "I'd say that my poetry has obviously more in common with my distinguished contemporaries in America than with anything written in my generation in England. That I'm sure of. ... It wouldn't be what it is, and I imagine it wouldn't be so good; putting it as modestly as I can, it wouldn't be what it is if I'd been born in England, and it wouldn't be what it is if I'd stayed in America. It's a combination of things. But in its sources, in its emotional springs, it comes from America."
The stand-out poem from Eliot's second collection is "Gerontion". The title is Greek for "little old man," and the poem is an interior monologue relating the opinions and impressions of an elderly man, which describes Europe after World War I through the eyes of a man who has lived most of his life in the 19th century. Two years after it was published, Eliot considered including the poem as a preface to "The Waste Land", but was talked out of this by Ezra Pound: "I do not advise printing Gerontion as preface. One don't miss it at all as the thing now stands. To be more lucid still, let me say that I advise you NOT to print Gerontion as prelude." (Ezra Pound, the man you are. THANK YOU. I mean, I love "Gerontin" but it does not belong before "The Waste Land", which so excellently stands on its own and is in a league of its own.)
"Gerontion" is one of the handful of poems that Eliot composed between the end of World War I in 1918 and his work on "The Waste Land" in 1921. During that time, Eliot was working at Lloyds Bank and editing The Egoist, devoting most of his literary energy to writing review articles for periodicals. When he published the two collections in February, 1920 Ara Vos Prec, "Gerontion" was almost the only poem he had never offered to the public before and was placed first in both volumes.
Two earlier versions of the poem can be found, the original typescript of the poem as well as that version with comments by Ezra Pound. In the typescript, the name of the poem is "Gerousia", referring to the name of the Council of the Elders at Sparta.
"Gerontion" opens with an epigraph (from Shakespeare's play Measure for Measure—which is literally my favorite Shakespeare play!!!) which states: "Thou hast nor youth nor age / But as it were an after dinner sleep / Dreaming of both".
Many of the themes within "Gerontion" are present throughout Eliot's later works, especially within "The Waste Land". This is especially true of the internal struggle within the poem and the narrator's "waiting for rain". Time is also altered by allowing past and present to be superimposed, and a series of places and characters connected to various cultures are introduced.
Kazin suggests that in lines 33–36 the poem attempts to show how Eliot tells his generation that history is "nothing but human depravity": "After such knowledge, what forgiveness? Think now / History has many cunning passages, contrived corridors / And issues, deceives with whispering ambitions, / Guides us by vanities." HULLOOO??? Relevant much??? Accurate much??
The phrase "wilderness of mirrors" from the poem has been alluded to by many other writers and artists. It has been used as the titles of plays by Van Badham and Charles Evered, of novels by Max Frisch, and of albums by bands such as Waysted. Another prominent line in the poem, "In depraved May, dogwood and chestnut, flowering judas / To be eaten, to be divided, to be drunk", is the origin of the title of Katherine Anne Porter's first collection of short stories, Flowering Judas and Other Stories (1930). Thomas Stearns, the influencer you were. <3
March 6, 2022
Se Tempo e Spazio, come i Saggi dicono
Sono cose che non potranno mai essere,
il sole che non cede al mutamento
non è per nulla superiore a noi.
Così perché, Amore, dovremmo sperare
Di vivere un secolo intero?
La farfalla che vive un solo giorno
È già vissuta per l’eternità.
I fiori che ti diedi allorchè la rugiada
Tremolava sul tralcio rampicante,
prima che l’’ape volasse a suggere
la rosellina di macchia erano già appassiti.
Così affrettiamoci a coglierne ancora
Senza tristezza se poi languiranno;
i nostri giorni d’amore sono pochi:
facciamo almeno che siano divini.
Canzone
Quando tornammo a casa oltrepassando il colle
Nessuna foglia degli alberi era caduta ancora;
né le dita leggere della brezza avevano
strappato la tremante ragnatela.
I fiori sulla siepe erano in boccio,
e nessun petalo appassito a terra;
ma le rose canine della tua ghirlanda
erano ormai già morte e le foglie ingiallite.
Su un ritratto
In una folla di tenui sogni, ignota
A noi di mente inquieta e piedi stanchi,
a noi sempre di fretta per le strade, lei
se ne sta solitaria nella stanza a sera.
Non come dea serena scolpita nella pietra,
ma evanescente, come noi incontrassimo
una lamia pensosa nel folto di un bosco,
fantasia immateriale che emana da noi stessi.
Meditazioni liete né sinistre turbano
Le sue labbra, né muovono l’esili mani;
e gli occhi oscuri nascondono segreti
di lei che vive oltre il cerchio dei nostri pensieri.
Il pappagallo sulla sbarra, che spia silenzioso
L’osserva con un occhio paziente
Sono cose che non potranno mai essere,
il sole che non cede al mutamento
non è per nulla superiore a noi.
Così perché, Amore, dovremmo sperare
Di vivere un secolo intero?
La farfalla che vive un solo giorno
È già vissuta per l’eternità.
I fiori che ti diedi allorchè la rugiada
Tremolava sul tralcio rampicante,
prima che l’’ape volasse a suggere
la rosellina di macchia erano già appassiti.
Così affrettiamoci a coglierne ancora
Senza tristezza se poi languiranno;
i nostri giorni d’amore sono pochi:
facciamo almeno che siano divini.
Canzone
Quando tornammo a casa oltrepassando il colle
Nessuna foglia degli alberi era caduta ancora;
né le dita leggere della brezza avevano
strappato la tremante ragnatela.
I fiori sulla siepe erano in boccio,
e nessun petalo appassito a terra;
ma le rose canine della tua ghirlanda
erano ormai già morte e le foglie ingiallite.
Su un ritratto
In una folla di tenui sogni, ignota
A noi di mente inquieta e piedi stanchi,
a noi sempre di fretta per le strade, lei
se ne sta solitaria nella stanza a sera.
Non come dea serena scolpita nella pietra,
ma evanescente, come noi incontrassimo
una lamia pensosa nel folto di un bosco,
fantasia immateriale che emana da noi stessi.
Meditazioni liete né sinistre turbano
Le sue labbra, né muovono l’esili mani;
e gli occhi oscuri nascondono segreti
di lei che vive oltre il cerchio dei nostri pensieri.
Il pappagallo sulla sbarra, che spia silenzioso
L’osserva con un occhio paziente
January 31, 2020
Що ж, це були чудові півроку (рік, якщо врахувати і другий том) у компанії нобеліанта і котолюба. У першому томі мені випало перекласти розділ «Розрізнені вірші» – ті, що з різних причин не потрапили до прижиттєвих збірок. Це і перші підліткові вірші, і останні вірші, еротичні (під завісу життя Еліот закохався).
Від прочитаного – і перекладеного – я отримав такий самий кайф, як і півроку тому з другим томом. Проте другий том я маю в паперовому вигляді, а з першого – десь з третину в електронці, тобто не міг насолодитися його найвідомішими творами. Залишається тільки чекати видання українською мовою – видавництво «НК - Богдан» вже анонсувало його на цей рік.
Від прочитаного – і перекладеного – я отримав такий самий кайф, як і півроку тому з другим томом. Проте другий том я маю в паперовому вигляді, а з першого – десь з третину в електронці, тобто не міг насолодитися його найвідомішими творами. Залишається тільки чекати видання українською мовою – видавництво «НК - Богдан» вже анонсувало його на цей рік.
July 11, 2021
Εκπληκτικός ποιητής. Διαβάζοντας το βιβλίο, ήταν σα να ταξίδεψα σε μια πινακοθήκη. Τα ποιήματα ήταν τοσο ζωντανά, γεμάτα με εικόνες, χρώματα και συναισθήματα. Ανάμεσα στις αίθουσες τις πινακοθήκης υπήρχαν χώροι στους οποίους κάλπαζε η φιλοσοφία, τόσο δυναμικά. Θαρρώ πως πρώτη μου φορά προβληματίζομαι τόσο από ποίηση.
Τα νοήματα ασύγκριτα. Απλά φοβερός.
"You say i am repeating
Something I have said before. I shall say it again.
Shall I say it again? In order to arrive there,
To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not,
You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy.
In order to arrive at what you do not know
You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.
In order to possess what you do not possess
You must go by the way of dispossession.
In order to arrive at the what you are not
You must go through the way in which you are not.
And what you do not know is the only thing you know
And what you own is what you do not own
And where you are is where you are not."
Τα νοήματα ασύγκριτα. Απλά φοβερός.
"You say i am repeating
Something I have said before. I shall say it again.
Shall I say it again? In order to arrive there,
To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not,
You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy.
In order to arrive at what you do not know
You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.
In order to possess what you do not possess
You must go by the way of dispossession.
In order to arrive at the what you are not
You must go through the way in which you are not.
And what you do not know is the only thing you know
And what you own is what you do not own
And where you are is where you are not."
December 4, 2020
A pretty pompous poet; took me a very long while trying to access his more cryptic metaphors/allusions. A brilliant one nonetheless. There is a haunting comfort in his work that would always draw me in.
Possibly my favourite:
“We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.”
Possibly my favourite:
“We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.”
October 18, 2017
Quale perdono dopo aver varcato la soglia della conoscenza, nello scoprire che il linguaggio non è mai abbastanza?
August 4, 2016
حقيقي أنا عندي مشكلة مع ترجمة الشعر الانجليزي ، الترجمة خالية من أي روح شعرية و محاولةمحاكاة المبجل حسن عثمان في نظمه لترجمته الخالدة للكوميديا الإلهية لم تكن موفقة .
August 16, 2022
Readers wanted. Must be familiar with literature eg. Webster (Yup) and religion eg. Blavatsky (Yup). Must be bilingual (Nope). Top tip: Hippo.
April 14, 2023
Os meus comentários serão a respeito de apenas uma das poesias do livro – A terra devastada. Essa é provavelmente a mais conhecidas das obras do Eliot.
Acho que uma das dificuldades em relação à obra dele é a combinação de elementos bastante distintos entre si.
De um lado, ele se apoia fortemente na tradição literária para elaborar a sua obra. Ele chega ao ponto de incluir um vasto conjunto de notas de rodapé, em que se podem encontrar aquilo que o inspirou. A tradição cristã, em um sentido mais estrito, mas muita coisa além disso. Dante, Wagner, Santo Graal, Baudelaire, dentre outros, mas há também coisas vindas do Oriente – Budismo e Hinduísmo.
De outro lado, ele se filia, sem muita dificuldade, ao modernismo. Está na vanguarda da arte do início do século XX ao lado de Joyce, Proust, Woolf, Pound e outros mais. Ele faz na poesia o que outros fizeram na prosa – multiplicidade de vozes, fluxo de consciência, rupturas bruscas de local e de tempo.
Assim, ele buscou amalgamar essas duas coisas que aparentam ser tão diferentes – tradição e modernismo. Talvez nem sejam se pensarmos que Joyce também estava profundamente enraizado nos seus antecessores.
O elemento principal parece-me ser o conflito entre o passado e o presente. O passado era melhor, mas não existe mais.... e é irrecuperável, a não ser como uma paródia inútil. O presente é a terra gasta, inútil, desolada, desesperançada, decadente, decaída.
Essa tensão é mantida durante todo o poema. É possível, por meio da religião – ou do encontro com o transcendente. Toda cultura tem origem da religião, parece ser o argumento dele.
O mundo de seu tempo – início dos anos 1920 – parece fadado a esterilidade espiritual. A cura não se faz por essa retomada – que será artificial – de um passado, mas a compreensão de há no passado a chave para o futuro – o encontro com o transcendente.
Assim, a retirada dos valores de uma sociedade e a sua substituição por nada leva uma sociedade a sua própria destruição. Talvez seja esse o sentido do século XX. A destruição de tudo, de todos os valores e a sua negação com o nada.
A solução de Eliot está justamente no encontro com a religião, com o transcendente, com o encontro com uma visão de mundo que vá além de nós.
Acho que uma das dificuldades em relação à obra dele é a combinação de elementos bastante distintos entre si.
De um lado, ele se apoia fortemente na tradição literária para elaborar a sua obra. Ele chega ao ponto de incluir um vasto conjunto de notas de rodapé, em que se podem encontrar aquilo que o inspirou. A tradição cristã, em um sentido mais estrito, mas muita coisa além disso. Dante, Wagner, Santo Graal, Baudelaire, dentre outros, mas há também coisas vindas do Oriente – Budismo e Hinduísmo.
De outro lado, ele se filia, sem muita dificuldade, ao modernismo. Está na vanguarda da arte do início do século XX ao lado de Joyce, Proust, Woolf, Pound e outros mais. Ele faz na poesia o que outros fizeram na prosa – multiplicidade de vozes, fluxo de consciência, rupturas bruscas de local e de tempo.
Assim, ele buscou amalgamar essas duas coisas que aparentam ser tão diferentes – tradição e modernismo. Talvez nem sejam se pensarmos que Joyce também estava profundamente enraizado nos seus antecessores.
O elemento principal parece-me ser o conflito entre o passado e o presente. O passado era melhor, mas não existe mais.... e é irrecuperável, a não ser como uma paródia inútil. O presente é a terra gasta, inútil, desolada, desesperançada, decadente, decaída.
Essa tensão é mantida durante todo o poema. É possível, por meio da religião – ou do encontro com o transcendente. Toda cultura tem origem da religião, parece ser o argumento dele.
O mundo de seu tempo – início dos anos 1920 – parece fadado a esterilidade espiritual. A cura não se faz por essa retomada – que será artificial – de um passado, mas a compreensão de há no passado a chave para o futuro – o encontro com o transcendente.
Assim, a retirada dos valores de uma sociedade e a sua substituição por nada leva uma sociedade a sua própria destruição. Talvez seja esse o sentido do século XX. A destruição de tudo, de todos os valores e a sua negação com o nada.
A solução de Eliot está justamente no encontro com a religião, com o transcendente, com o encontro com uma visão de mundo que vá além de nós.
December 1, 2025
I can’t say it’s his best book, but there are several interesting aspects worth highlighting. To begin with, the themes he explores, which are already moving in the same direction as in The Waste Land: myths and their collision with modern life, and their growing inability to account for the sui generis chaos and destruction of our time (or rather his time, Eliot’s time, that time). The references to classical works also become more prominent, as do sections in Ancient Greek. The mixture of languages appears here as well, with a few poems in French (I was able to read one or two, the rest I had to translate). There is, in fact, a poem in French that contains a stanza which, almost in its entirety, would later be placed in The Waste Land, in the “Death by Water” section.
Finally, we have two of Eliot’s most often remembered poems: Gerontion, about a man who recalls that sort of lost Paradise that was the Europe of his time, and Sweeney Among the Nightingales, where we see more closely the character Eliot will go on developing. Overall, there are some strong poems. One can already feel the despair and the search for meaning, for some greater answer, not yet attained (as it is, in some way, in “Prufrock”). But these are poems that pave the way for The Waste Land.
Finally, we have two of Eliot’s most often remembered poems: Gerontion, about a man who recalls that sort of lost Paradise that was the Europe of his time, and Sweeney Among the Nightingales, where we see more closely the character Eliot will go on developing. Overall, there are some strong poems. One can already feel the despair and the search for meaning, for some greater answer, not yet attained (as it is, in some way, in “Prufrock”). But these are poems that pave the way for The Waste Land.
April 16, 2023
I couldn't care less about T.S. Eliot's poems. The ones I had to read for class was mind-numbingly dull. They were a bore and all I wanted to do was fall asleep.
February 20, 2025
3,5 stelle tendente al 3… tutto bellissimo fino alla Terra Desolata. Dopo di che, un disastro dopo l’altro fino ad arrivare alla poesia religiosa (Grazie Dio per aver rovinato un altro poeta, grazie mille davvero!!)
January 3, 2020
قمت بارتكاب ظلم بيّن في حق اليوت عندما قررت قراءة قصائده المترجمة للعربية ، فلم أجد فيما قرأته شعراً ولا يحزنون اللهم الا أن السطر يحوي بضع كلمات كما نجد في الشعر فهذه هي الصلة الوحيدة الوثيقة بالشعر التي وجدتها في هذه النسخة.
مثلا:
الأعين التي رأيتها مرة في غمرة الدموع
من خلال القسمة
إن الرؤية الذهبية لتعاود الظهور
وإني لأري الأعين ولكني لا أري الدموع
ذلك مبعث محنتي
إني لن أري الأعين مرة أخري
أعين التصميم
لن أري الأعين إلا
عند باب مملكة الموت الأخري
حيث الأعين كما هو الشأن هنا
تبقي قليلا
تبقي قليلا بعد الدموع
وتنظر إلينا ساخرة
تلك كانت عينة مما هو وارد في هذه النسخة . وطبعا ليس في هذا استهانة او تقليل من شأن المجهود المبذول من قبل المترجم ، ولكن الشعر ان خرج من اطار اللغة التي كُتب بها ليوضع في حيز لغة اخري ضاع بين اللغتين لتحل محلها صورة ضبابية لما كان عليه.
مثلا:
الأعين التي رأيتها مرة في غمرة الدموع
من خلال القسمة
إن الرؤية الذهبية لتعاود الظهور
وإني لأري الأعين ولكني لا أري الدموع
ذلك مبعث محنتي
إني لن أري الأعين مرة أخري
أعين التصميم
لن أري الأعين إلا
عند باب مملكة الموت الأخري
حيث الأعين كما هو الشأن هنا
تبقي قليلا
تبقي قليلا بعد الدموع
وتنظر إلينا ساخرة
تلك كانت عينة مما هو وارد في هذه النسخة . وطبعا ليس في هذا استهانة او تقليل من شأن المجهود المبذول من قبل المترجم ، ولكن الشعر ان خرج من اطار اللغة التي كُتب بها ليوضع في حيز لغة اخري ضاع بين اللغتين لتحل محلها صورة ضبابية لما كان عليه.
April 3, 2015
نوع من الشعر مختلف
الترجمة كانت رائعة
الصدمة ماكانتش هينة
فيه شعر مختلف تماما عن الشعر اللي الواحد كان غرقان فيه
شعر غالبا لو العرب كتبوه هيبقوا عباقرة
بس ماحدش من بني جلدتهم وجنسهم هيسمعوا
فهيبقوا عباقرة بينهم وبين نفسهم
تحت بير السلم
الترجمة كانت رائعة
الصدمة ماكانتش هينة
فيه شعر مختلف تماما عن الشعر اللي الواحد كان غرقان فيه
شعر غالبا لو العرب كتبوه هيبقوا عباقرة
بس ماحدش من بني جلدتهم وجنسهم هيسمعوا
فهيبقوا عباقرة بينهم وبين نفسهم
تحت بير السلم
February 6, 2016
This was a really good collection of Eliot. It took some time to interpret the actual meaning but I did some worksheets on it and understood.
January 3, 2019
I love watching his changes from Prufrock through Four Quartets.
March 3, 2024
Quite possibly the biggest drop-off that I've ever had with an author. I would personally consider T.S. Eliot's 'Prufrock and Other Observations' to be one of my absolute favorite volumes of poetry ever released, I adored it for the incredibly distinct style, complex interpretability and mind-blowing depiction of modern life. I think that he's endlessly riveting in that work, and captivating to read despite the apparent confusion that may be caused by the modernist approach. The sheer level of linguistic evocation is something that is hard to match, and there was something humorous, dark, cynical and yet very beautiful about the way in which he creates these minds of characters you inhabit and worlds you observe. It always felt innovative, exciting and dramatic in all the right ways. Well, with his 1920-set of poetry, released as a follow-up to 'Prufrock', I think Eliot made me understand why so many people hate him.
You see, I know about his personal life; I know what he did, I am aware of his antisemitism, fanatically religious tendencies and harmful way of literary criticism, but with that debut set of poems, it wasn't really present at all, and if so, you could read it as simply being parts of characters. In this one... oh boy, where do I begin. There is an ungodly amount of antisemitism in this collection, from the twelve poems in here, more than half of them add antisemitic comments as a side-jab, and even two or three of them are directly trying to attack Jewish people, and in these, Eliot comes off as a whiny bitch who tries to blame everyone but himself for his frustration with modern life. You want to know the worst part about all this? This time, there mostly aren't even any separate narrators that you could use as an excuse for these things, but the majority of them are supposed to be written from an objective perspective of the poet, and they are aggravatingly conservative. Then there are a whole lot of poems which are just trying to be a fancy and pompous depiction of Christianity to which it is not only hard to connect to as a non-Christian, but which also lack any real depth of meaning. There's also an apparent lack of real experimentation here, unlike his first volume, a lot of the structure of his poetry here is very stale and conform with traditional poetry, and knowing that he was mostly inspired by the French poet Théophile Gautier here, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Not that Gautier isn't good, I've not really read much of his poetry at all, but I wouldn't say that Eliot's take or inspired form of his poetry adds much at all. This inspiration also lead Eliot to think that he could write poetry in French; an entire third of this volume is dedicated to him trying to write French verse, and, don't get me wrong, they're not awful, and content-wise, they are some of the better ones, but as somebody who has read a good amount of French poetry in both translation and original I have to say that they are nothing more than mediocre.
T.S. Eliot is still an undeniable talent, even a handful of poems which I dislike as a whole have some really brilliant ways of expressing things, connecting different poetic elements and creating a cohesive and dense piece of work, and I hope later volumes that I'll read will win me back, but especially in sentiment and meaning, this was just really bitter to me. 'Whispers of Immortality' is one of his best poems I've read so far, and Gerontion as well as the poems including the interesting character of Sweeney are at least pretty solid, but the rest of this I could really live without.
You see, I know about his personal life; I know what he did, I am aware of his antisemitism, fanatically religious tendencies and harmful way of literary criticism, but with that debut set of poems, it wasn't really present at all, and if so, you could read it as simply being parts of characters. In this one... oh boy, where do I begin. There is an ungodly amount of antisemitism in this collection, from the twelve poems in here, more than half of them add antisemitic comments as a side-jab, and even two or three of them are directly trying to attack Jewish people, and in these, Eliot comes off as a whiny bitch who tries to blame everyone but himself for his frustration with modern life. You want to know the worst part about all this? This time, there mostly aren't even any separate narrators that you could use as an excuse for these things, but the majority of them are supposed to be written from an objective perspective of the poet, and they are aggravatingly conservative. Then there are a whole lot of poems which are just trying to be a fancy and pompous depiction of Christianity to which it is not only hard to connect to as a non-Christian, but which also lack any real depth of meaning. There's also an apparent lack of real experimentation here, unlike his first volume, a lot of the structure of his poetry here is very stale and conform with traditional poetry, and knowing that he was mostly inspired by the French poet Théophile Gautier here, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Not that Gautier isn't good, I've not really read much of his poetry at all, but I wouldn't say that Eliot's take or inspired form of his poetry adds much at all. This inspiration also lead Eliot to think that he could write poetry in French; an entire third of this volume is dedicated to him trying to write French verse, and, don't get me wrong, they're not awful, and content-wise, they are some of the better ones, but as somebody who has read a good amount of French poetry in both translation and original I have to say that they are nothing more than mediocre.
T.S. Eliot is still an undeniable talent, even a handful of poems which I dislike as a whole have some really brilliant ways of expressing things, connecting different poetic elements and creating a cohesive and dense piece of work, and I hope later volumes that I'll read will win me back, but especially in sentiment and meaning, this was just really bitter to me. 'Whispers of Immortality' is one of his best poems I've read so far, and Gerontion as well as the poems including the interesting character of Sweeney are at least pretty solid, but the rest of this I could really live without.
January 2, 2023
Eliot was a person whose poetry marks a complete break from the 19th century tradition. He rejected the romantic theory that all art is basically an expression of the artist's personality, and that the artist should create according to the dictates of his own inner voice without owing allegiance to any outside authority. Reacting against this subjectivism, Eliot advocated his celebrated theory of the ‘impersonality of poetry’. He recognised the dangers of such an unrestricted liberty, and felt that, granted such licence, there would be only, fitful and transient bursts of literary brilliance. Inspiration alone cannot be a safe guide. It often results in eccentricity and chaos. Moreover the doctrine of human perfectibility and the faith in "inner voice" received a rude shock as a result of the world war. It was realised that man is not perfect, and hence perfect art cannot result from merely the artist's following his inner voice. Some sort of guidance, some discipline, some outside authority was necessary to save art from incoherence and emptiness. Thus Eliot condemned the Inner Light as, "the most untrustworthy and deceitful guide that ever offered itself to wandering humanity.
July 21, 2020
Poems 1920
T.S. Eliot
A Collection of 12 Poems:
- Gerontion
- Burbank with a Baedeker: Bleistein with a Cigar
- Sweeney Erect
- A Cooking Egg
- Le Directeur
- Mélange Adultère de Tout
- Lune de Miel
- The Hippopotamus
- Dans le Restaurant
- Whispers of Immortality
- Mr. Eliot’s Sunday Morning Service
- Sweeney Among the Nightingales
I did not understand most of the Poems some were in French, but it was a good read nonetheless.
I enjoyed the collection and it seems there is an agreement on the audiobook so I might check that out.
It was different than the first collection, I liked the first one more.
T.S. Eliot
A Collection of 12 Poems:
- Gerontion
- Burbank with a Baedeker: Bleistein with a Cigar
- Sweeney Erect
- A Cooking Egg
- Le Directeur
- Mélange Adultère de Tout
- Lune de Miel
- The Hippopotamus
- Dans le Restaurant
- Whispers of Immortality
- Mr. Eliot’s Sunday Morning Service
- Sweeney Among the Nightingales
I did not understand most of the Poems some were in French, but it was a good read nonetheless.
I enjoyed the collection and it seems there is an agreement on the audiobook so I might check that out.
It was different than the first collection, I liked the first one more.
This is the way the world ends,
Not with a bang but a whimper.
Neither fear nor courage saves us.
March 1, 2023
For Eliot, these poems strike me as being very weak. In many, he departs from free verse, and I find his meter and rhymes to be awkward far too often. On top of that, the images he juxtaposes often strike me as being more awkward than fitting. And there is very little in these poems that I found beautiful or touching. And nothing that I think is moving. The French poems especially struck me as weak and pretentious.
Of the collection, I kind of liked Genorition, The Hippopotomus, and the two Sweeny poems. But overall, this struck me as being a severe sophomore slump.
Of the collection, I kind of liked Genorition, The Hippopotomus, and the two Sweeny poems. But overall, this struck me as being a severe sophomore slump.
May 20, 2020
I would meet you upon this honestly.
I that was near your heart was removed therefrom
To lose beauty in terror, terror in inquisition.
I have lost my passion: why should I need to keep it
Since what is kept must be adulterated?
I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch:
How should I use them for your closer contact?
It's not that Eliot isn't a brilliant poet—he is—it's just that he seems to have a stick up his ass regarding women (especially their sexuality), Jews, and Christian heterodoxy. Even when he is writing beautifully and sympathetically (which he often does) about pathetic yet compelling characters, there is an undertone of something stern and uptight. Perhaps it's just a general chauvinism underlying his work. All that being said, this collection is certainly worth reading, if only for "Gerontion" and the Sweeney poems.
I that was near your heart was removed therefrom
To lose beauty in terror, terror in inquisition.
I have lost my passion: why should I need to keep it
Since what is kept must be adulterated?
I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch:
How should I use them for your closer contact?
It's not that Eliot isn't a brilliant poet—he is—it's just that he seems to have a stick up his ass regarding women (especially their sexuality), Jews, and Christian heterodoxy. Even when he is writing beautifully and sympathetically (which he often does) about pathetic yet compelling characters, there is an undertone of something stern and uptight. Perhaps it's just a general chauvinism underlying his work. All that being said, this collection is certainly worth reading, if only for "Gerontion" and the Sweeney poems.
April 17, 2018
Interesting. I don't recall a word. I'm probably reading these poems too fast... I didn't like the French poems that much, because I barely understand any French. The Sweeney poems are probably the most interesting.
I did not read this particular edition, but another one with half of the mentioned poems (Gerontion, etc...).
I did not read this particular edition, but another one with half of the mentioned poems (Gerontion, etc...).
January 5, 2024
"¿hacia dónde fuimos llevados:
a un Nacimiento o a una Muerte? Hubo de Nacer, ciertamente,
y lo vimos, sin duda. Había visto nacimientos y muertes,
pero pensé que eran distintos"
"El polvo al sol y el recuerdo por los rincones,
esperan el viento que hiela y al país muerto conduce.
Danos tu paz."
"con gloria y escarnio,
luz sobre luz, por la escalera de los Santos subiendo."
a un Nacimiento o a una Muerte? Hubo de Nacer, ciertamente,
y lo vimos, sin duda. Había visto nacimientos y muertes,
pero pensé que eran distintos"
"El polvo al sol y el recuerdo por los rincones,
esperan el viento que hiela y al país muerto conduce.
Danos tu paz."
"con gloria y escarnio,
luz sobre luz, por la escalera de los Santos subiendo."
May 27, 2019
Eliot's poems are pretty complex in nature. He is regarded as the best poet after Shakespeare. He has introduced the free verses to English Literature. His poem The Westland is my favourite one that shows the chaos created in all over the world and disorders.
November 3, 2021
Amazing, precocious, elusive … T. S. Eliot’s selected verse in this slim volume intrigues and captivates … begins with “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” and concludes with “The Waste Land” … obviously worthy of the Nobel Prize awarded this author in 1948 …
December 3, 2023
I expected more from this. Eliot being one of the great poets. Very cryptic, flashes of interesting images but kind of pales because of inconsistent quality. I think this is just not the collection for me.
September 15, 2024
didn’t really understand a bit of references he made, but for the poems i got, they were good. definitely a verbose poet
some highlights were, “the love song of j. alfred prufrock” and “the hollow men”
closer to 3.5 but i wish i could understand french too
some highlights were, “the love song of j. alfred prufrock” and “the hollow men”
closer to 3.5 but i wish i could understand french too
December 31, 2024
Poems by T.S. Eliot are great but what I loved the most about this Everyman's Library pocket poets is the essays that Eliot wrote. It is really interesting to read what he thought about other poets and critics. If you love poetry in general you will like to have this edition in your collection.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 61 reviews