Conversation Galante (by T.S. Eliot)

T.S. Eliot
Conversation Galante
[from Prufrock and Other Observations, 1917]
I observe: "Our sentimental friend the moon!
Or possibly (fantastic, I confess)
It may be Prester John's balloon
Or an old battered lantern hung aloft
To light poor travellers to their distress."
She then: "How you digress!"
And I then: "Some one frames upon the keys
That exquisite nocturne, with which we explain
The night and moonshine; music which we seize
To body forth our own vacuity."
She then: "Does this refer to me?"
"Oh no, it is I who am inane."
"You, madam, are the eternal humorist
The eternal enemy of the absolute,
Giving our vagrant moods the slightest twist!
With your air indifferent and imperious
At a stroke our mad poetics to confute—"
And—"Are we then so serious?"
* * * * *





Like this one too. I pick up a bit of irony or sarcasm in this.. but its very subtle. But then it could be playfulness. I haven't read enough of Eliot to be familiar with his voice... so still trying to figure him out.
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