a dedication to my wife 致我妻子
thomas stearns eilot
to whom i owe the leaping delight
that quickens my senses in our waking-time
and the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleeping-time,
the breathing in unison.
of lovers whose bodies smell of each other
who think the same thoughts without need of speech,
and babble the same speech without need of meaning...
no peevish winter wind shall chill
no sullen tropic sun shall witherthe roses in the rose-garden
which is ours and ours only
but this dedication is for others to read:
these are private words addressed to you in public.
