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Poetry: T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets - Quartet No. 1: "Burnt Norton" performed by Ralph Fiennes 2 года назад


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Poetry: T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets - Quartet No. 1: "Burnt Norton" performed by Ralph Fiennes

"Burnt Norton" is the first poem of T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets. He created it while working on his play Murder in the Cathedral, and it was first published in his Collected Poems 1909–1935. The poem's title refers to the manor house Eliot visited with Emily Hale in the Cotswolds. Quartet No. 1: Burnt Norton Quartet No. 2: East Coker:    • Poetry: T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets - ...   Quartet No. 3: The Dry Salvages:    • Poetry: T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets - ...   Quartet No. 4: Little Gidding:    • Poetry: T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets - ...   http://www.davidgorman.com/4quartets/ Ralph Fiennes:    • Poetry: T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets - ...   ____________________________________________________________________________ Four Quartets by T.S. Eliot Quartet No. 1: Burnt Norton I. Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable. What might have been is an abstraction Remaining a perpetual possibility Only in a world of speculation. What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. 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. So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern, Along the empty alley, into the box circle, To look down into the drained pool. Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged, And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight, And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly, The surface glittered out of heart of light, And they were behind us, reflected in the pool. Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty. Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children, Hidden excitedly, containing laughter. Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind Cannot bear very much reality. Time past and time future What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. II Garlic and sapphires in the mud Clot the bedded axle-tree. The trilling wire in the blood Sings below inveterate scars Appeasing long forgotten wars. The dance along the artery The circulation of the lymph Are figured in the drift of stars Ascend to summer in the tree We move above the moving tree In light upon the figured leaf And hear upon the sodden floor Below, the boarhound and the boar Pursue their pattern as before But reconciled among the stars. ... ... ... Source: Four Quartets read by Ralph Fiennes, 2009 ☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ DISCLAIMER: This is a non-monetized channel. Absolutely no copyright infringement intended. I created/edited this video for entertainment/educational purpose only. I do not own nor claim to own anything in this video. The videos/audios/photos are property of their rightful owners. All credit goes to the owners of all the materials used in this video. * ৳৸ᵃᵑᵏ Ꮍ৹੫ᵎ * #poetry #poem #actorsreadingpoetry

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