Let us go then, you and I,When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table; Let us go, through certain half deserted streets, The muttering retreats Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels and sawdust restaurants...And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument. Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...Oh, do not ask, “What is it?” Let us go and make our visit.The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes, Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, And seeing that it was a soft October night, Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea, Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile, And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me. Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid. Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black. 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.
