B-612

Diladi [V]
So here I am, in the middle way, having had twenty years-
Twenty years largely wasted, the years of l'entre deux guerres-
Trying to learn to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new begining, a raid on the inarticulate
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotions. And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, ha already been disovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom we cannot
hope
To emulate -but there is no competition-
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under
conditions
That seem unpropitious. But neither gain nor loss.
For us there is only the trying. The rest is not our business

I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ROSE(full/stop)

Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment

Afto, afto na grapseis stous toixous toutous, kathws me zesto panteloni kai hameni akoi, me tin orasi sterimeni tou ti/pota, amethystoi, fylame tin enohopoiimeni ypnilia kai tin ypenthymisi tou asteroidous twn epikefalidwn tou 1909, tou 1920, tou 1944.

Merci A-gape mou

Then again post-txt, may
b just
for now
here