1. The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

        S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse

A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,

Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.

Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo

Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,

Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

LET us go then, you and I,        

When the evening is spread out against the sky        

Like a patient etherised upon a table;   

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,       

The muttering retreats     

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels    

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:   

Streets that follow like a tedious argument     

Of insidious intent 

To lead you to an overwhelming question …  

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”      

Let us go and make our visit.     

In the room the women come and go  

Talking of Michelangelo.  

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