![\"Unreal](\"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/07\/Unreal_City_Eliot.jpg\")
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Citt\u00e0 irreale,
\nSotto la nebbia bruna di un’alba d’inverno,
\nUna gran folla fluiva sopra il London Bridge, cos\u00ec tanta,
\nCh’io non avrei mai creduto che morte tanta n’avesse disfatta.
\nSospiri, brevi e infrequenti, se ne esalavano,
\nE ognuno procedeva con gli occhi fissi ai piedi. Affluivano
\nSu per il colle e gi\u00f9 per la King William Street,
\nFino a dove Saint Mary Woolnoth segnava le ore
\nCon morto suono sull’ultimo tocco delle nove.
\nL\u00e0 vidi uno che conoscevo, e lo fermai, gridando: “Stetson!
\nTu che eri con me , sulle navi a Milazzo!
\nQuel cadavere che l’anno scorso piantasti nel giardino,
\nHa cominciato a germogliare? Fiorir\u00e0 quest’anno?
\nOppure il gelo improvviso ne ha danneggiato l’aiola?
\nOh, tieni il Cane a distanza, che \u00e8 amico dell’uomo,
\nSe non vuoi che con l’unghie, di nuovo, lo metta allo scoperto!
\nTu, hypocrite lecteur! – mon semblable, – mon fr\u00e8re!”<\/p>\n
T.S.Eliot<\/em><\/p>\n \n * * *<\/p>\n Unreal City, <\/em><\/span> T.S.Eliot<\/em><\/span><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":589,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[38],"tags":[131],"class_list":["post-590","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-foto-pensieri","tag-tseliot"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/590","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=590"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/590\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/589"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=590"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=590"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.liberopensare.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=590"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nUnder the brown fog of a winter dawn, <\/em><\/span>
\nA crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, <\/em><\/span>
\nI had not thought death had undone so many. <\/em><\/span>
\nSighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, <\/em><\/span>
\nAnd each man fixed his eyes before his feet. <\/em><\/span>
\nFlowed up the hill and down King William Street, <\/em><\/span>
\nTo where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours <\/em><\/span>
\nWith a dead sound on the final stroke of nine. <\/em><\/span>
\nThere I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying \u201cStetson! <\/em><\/span>
\nYou who were with me in the ships at Mylae! <\/em><\/span>
\nThat corpse you planted last year in your garden, <\/em><\/span>
\nHas it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? <\/em><\/span>
\nOr has the sudden frost disturbed its bed? <\/em><\/span>
\nOh keep the Dog far hence, that\u2019s friend to men, <\/em><\/span>
\nOr with his nails he\u2019ll dig it up again! <\/em><\/span>
\nYou! hypocrite lecteur!\u2014mon semblable,\u2014mon fr\u00e8re!\u201d<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n