Saturday, July 17, 2010

BURN NORTON.... Mr Eliot... You Bake Good Poems

Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.
Other echoes
Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,
Round the corner. Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrush? Into our first world.
There they were, dignified, invisible,

Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,
And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.

Consequently, ‘‘Burnt Norton’’ should not
necessarily be read as a forward-looking poem that launches themes,
images, ideas, and emotions that eventually surface in those subsequent
quartets. Instead, it can be understood more accurately as a summary of
Eliot’s past experiences and the effects of those memories upon the presentday
speaker.

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