Wasteland poem

April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land,

mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain.

Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow,

feeding A little life with dried tubers.

“The Waste Land” by T. S. Eliot, the 20th century's major American-British poet.

Photo: “Waste Land” by Man Ray, 1929.