And the dead tree gives no shelter, to cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water..
................
That corpse you planted last year your garden,
Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
..............
What shall we do tomorrow?
What shall we ever do?
................
Here is not water but only rock,
Rock and no water and the sandy road,
The road winding above around the mountains,
Which are mountains of rock without water...
Eliot, for your lines above somehow represent my state of mind ...come...THE ARIDITY AND DRUDGERY HAS TO END...looking forward to a better tomorrow
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