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A review by roberto_balogna
The Waste Land and Other Poems by T.S. Eliot
5.0
Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,
Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.
But at my back in a cold blast I hear
The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.
The greatest poem ever written, and the greatest density of genius ever penned in the English language. There is no better half hour than the one spent, time and time again, reading The Waste Land and uncovering a novel allusion.
The only work that surpasses The Waste Land on the front of being distillate wisdom is The Sermon on the Mount, which is almost directly oppositional in tone and worldview. In maintaining the equilibrium of life, one may need only read The Sermon on the Mount for buoyancy in times of great hardship and The Waste Land for perspective in times of great happiness.
Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.
But at my back in a cold blast I hear
The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.
The greatest poem ever written, and the greatest density of genius ever penned in the English language. There is no better half hour than the one spent, time and time again, reading The Waste Land and uncovering a novel allusion.
The only work that surpasses The Waste Land on the front of being distillate wisdom is The Sermon on the Mount, which is almost directly oppositional in tone and worldview. In maintaining the equilibrium of life, one may need only read The Sermon on the Mount for buoyancy in times of great hardship and The Waste Land for perspective in times of great happiness.