The Waste Lands (Stephen King) читать бесплатно онлайн полную версию книги (ч. 3)

And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,

And the dry stone no sound of water. Only

There is shadow under this red rock,

(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),

And I will show you something different from either

Your shadow in the morning striding behind you

Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

–T. S. ELIOT

“The Waste Land”

If there pushed any ragged thistle-stalk Above its mates, the head was chopped; the bents Were jealous else. What made those holes and rents In the dock’s harsh swarth leaves, bruised as to balk All hope of greenness? ’tis a brute must walk Pashing their life out, with a brute’s intents.

–ROBERT BROWNING

“Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came"

“What river is it?” enquired Millicent idly. “It’s only a stream. Well, perhaps a little more than that. It’s called the Waste.” “Is it really?” “Yes,” said Winifred, “it is.”

–ROBERT AICKMAN

“Hand in Glove"