Then Spoke The Thunder

T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land (TWL), lines 400-410

          Then spoke the thunder

                    See Upanishads, Brihadaranyaka Upanishad 5.2.2: The Voice of Thunder
                    (tr. Robert Ernest Hume, 1921): 

                    The threefold offspring of Prajapati—gods (devas), men (manushyas), and devils
                    (asuras) —dwelt with their father Prajapati as students of sacred knowledge
                    (brahmacarya).

                    Having lived the life of a student of sacred knowledge, the gods said: ‘Speak to
                    us, Sir.’ To them then he spoke this syllable, ‘Da.’ ‘Did you understand?’ ‘We did
                    understand,’ said they. ‘You said to us, “Restrain yourselves (damyata).”’ ‘Yes
                    (Om)!’ said he. ‘You did understand.’

                    So then the men said to him: ‘Speak to us, Sir.’ To them then he spoke this
                    syllable, 'Da.’ ‘Did you understand?’ ‘We did understand,’ said they. ‘You said to
                    us, “Give (datta).”’ ‘Yes (Om)!’ said he. ‘You did understand.’

                    So then the devils said to him: ‘Speak to us, Sir.’ To them then he spoke this
                    syllable, ‘Da.’ ‘Did you understand?’ ‘We did understand,’ said they. ‘You said to
                    us, “Be compassionate (dayadhvam).”’ ‘Yes (Om)!’ said he. ‘You did understand.’  

                    This same thing does the divine voice here, thunder, repeat: Da! Da! Da! that is,
                    restrain yourselves, give, be compassionate. One should practise this same triad:
                    self-restraint, giving, compassion.

          DA

                    Eliot’s note: 'Datta, dayadhvam, damyata' (Give, sympathize, control). The fable 
                    of the meaning of the Thunder is found in the Brihadaranyaka--Upanishad, 5, 1.
                    A translation is found in Deussen's Sechzig Upanishads des Veda, p. 489.  Paul
                    Deussen’s German translation was published in 1897.

          Datta: what have we given?

                    The first discipline of datta, or “Give,” is what men could hear in the syllable “Da.”
                    See Eliot, Portrait of a Lady (1920): 

                    But what have I, but what have I, my friend,
                    To give you, what can you receive from me?

          My friend, blood shaking my heart

                    This line once read, “My friend. My friend, beating in my heart” (see T. S. Eliot: The
                    Waste Land, a Facsimile & Transcript of the Original Drafts Including the
                    Annotations of Ezra Pound, edited and with an Introduction by  Valerie Eliot
                    (1971).). Eliot struggled to keep his poetry impersonal; see Eliot, Tradition and 
                    the Individual Talent (1919):

                    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not 
                    the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. ...There are many
                    people who appreciate the expression of sincere emotion in verse, ...But very 
                    few know when there is expression of significant emotion, emotion which has 
                    its life in the poem and not in the history of the poet.  The emotion of art is
                    impersonal. And the poet cannot reach this impersonality without surrendering
                    himself wholly to the work to be done.

                    Eliot even called the more personal Walt Whitman “pathetic” (see Eliot, American
                    Literature (Athenaeum, 4/25/1919)), yet he could not resist occasional turns to
                    friendship and, throughout this poem and elsewhere, allusions to Whitman. 
                    Compare the opening lines of Whitman, Memories of President Lincoln (1892):

                    When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd,
                    And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
                    I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.

                    with Eliot, Portrait of a Lady:

                    Now that lilacs are in bloom
                    She has a bowl of lilacs in her room
                    And twists one in her fingers while she talks.
                    “Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know
                    What life is, you should hold it in your hands”;
                    (Slowly twisting the lilac stalks)
                    “You let it flow from you, you let it flow...”

          The awful daring of a moment's surrender
          Which an age of prudence can never retract
          By this, and this only, we have existed
          Which is not to be found in our obituaries
          Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider

                    Eliot’s note: Cf. Webster, The White Devil, V, vi: ‘...they'll remarry / Ere the worm
                    pierce your winding-sheet, ere the spider / Make a thin curtain for your epitaphs.’ 
                    John Webster (1612) 5.6.181-189.  The extended passage: 

                    FLAMINEO

                    O men,
                    That lie upon your death-beds, and are haunted
                    With howling wives! ne'er trust them; they'll re-marry
                    Ere the worm pierce your winding-sheet, ere the spider
                    Make a thin curtain for your epitaphs.
                    ...Trust a woman? never, never; Brachiano 
                    be my precedent. We lay our souls to pawn to the devil
                    for a little pleasure, and a woman makes the bill of sale. 
                    That ever man should marry! ...

          Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
          In our empty rooms


from T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land, with annotations (and other explanations)