Conversation Galant
de T.S. Eliot(2008)
1 min lectură
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\"Conversation Galante\"
By T.S. Eliot
\"I observe: \"Our sentimental friend the moon!
Or possibly (fantastic, I confess)
It may be Prester John\'s balloon
Or an old battered lantern hung aloft
To light poor travellers to their distress.\"
She then: \"How you digress!\"
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.\"
She then: \"Does this refer to me?\"
\"Oh no, it is I who am inane.\"
\"You, madam, are the eternal humorist
The eternal enemy of the absolute,
Giving our vagrant moods the slightest twist!
With your air indifferent and imperious
At a stroke our mad poetics to confute--\"
And--\"Are we then so serious?\"