'Waiting for Godot' is a baffling and legendary play by Samuel Beckett. He is one of the greatest writers and poets of the twentieth century. His work was astounding, and unimaginable, in its beauty and its elegance. He is what all the great Irish writers are; a sing song voice howling in the wind like banshees. Beckett hearkens back to a time when great men did care only for the love of Ireland and the poetry it brought them.
VLADIMIR said:
A dog came in the kitchen
And stole a crust of bread.
Then cook up with a ladle
And beat him till he was dead.
Then all the dogs came running
And dug the dog a tomb–
He stops, broods, resumes:
Then all the dogs came running
And dug the dog a tomb–
He stops, broods. Softly.
And dug the dog a tomb . .
This is an excerpt taken from "Waiting for Godot - Act2"


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