Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

Salutation The Third

Let us deride the smugness of 'The Times': GUFFAW!So much for the gagged reviewers,It will pay them when the worms are wriggling in theirvitals;These..

© Ezra Pound

Salutation The Second

You were praised, my books,because I had just come from the country;I was twenty years behind the timesso you found an audience ready.I do not disown..

© Ezra Pound

The Social Order

IThis government officialWhose wife is several years his senior,Has such a caressing airWhen he shakes hands with young ladies.II(Pompes..

© Ezra Pound

The Picture

The eyes of this dead lady speak to me,For here was love, was not to be drowned out.And here desire, not to be kissed away.The eyes of this dead lady..

© Ezra Pound

Speech For Psyche In The Golden Book Of Apuleius

All night, and as the wind lieth amongThe cypress trees, he lay,Nor held me save as air that brusheth by oneClose, and as the petals of flowers in..

© Ezra Pound

The Logical Conclusion

When earth's last thesis is copiedFrom the theses that went before,When idea from fact has departedAnd bare-boned factlets shall bore,When all joy..

© Ezra Pound

Fish And Shadow

The salmon-trout drifts in the stream,The soul of the salmon-trout floats over the streamLike a little wafer of light.The salmon moves in the..

© Ezra Pound

Heather

The black panther treads at my side,And above my fingersThere float the petal-like flames.The milk-white girlsUnbend from the holly-trees,And their..

© Ezra Pound

Pan Is Dead

‘Pan is dead. Great Pan is dead.Ah! bow your heads, ye maidens all,And weave ye him his coronal.’'There is no summer in the leaves,And withered are..

© Ezra Pound

Causa

I join these words for four people,Some others may overhear them,O world, I am sorry for you,You do not know these four people.

© Ezra Pound

Poetic Eggs

I am a grave poetic henThat lays poetic eggsAnd to enhance my temperamentA little quiet begs.We make the yolk philosophy,True beauty the albumen.And..

© Ezra Pound

Mauberley

ITurned from the 'eau-fortePar Jaquemart'To the strait headOf Messalina:'His true PenelopeWas Flaubert,'And his toolThe engraver's.Firmness,Not the..

© Ezra Pound

Homage To Sextus Propertius - I

Shades of Callimachus, Coan ghosts of PhiletasIt is in your grove I would walk,I who come first from the clear fontBringing the Grecian orgies into..

© Ezra Pound

Middle-Aged

‘Tis but a vague, invarious delightAs gold that rains about some buried king.As the fine flakes,When tourists frolickingStamp on his roof or in the..

© Ezra Pound

Separation On The River Kiang

Ko-Jin goes west from Ko-kaku-ro,The smoke-flowers are blurred over the river.His lone sail blots the far sky.And now I see only the river,The long..

© Ezra Pound

The Flame

‘Tis not a game that plays at mates and mating,Provençe knew;'Tis not a game of barter, lands and houses,Provençe knew.We who are wise beyond your..

© Ezra Pound

The Charge Of The Bread Brigade

Half a loaf, half a loaf,Half a loaf? Urn-hum?Down through the vale of gloomSlouched the ten million,Onward th' 'ungry blokes,Crackin' their smutty..

© Ezra Pound

The Beautiful Toilet

Blue, blue is the grass about the riverAnd the willows have overfilled the close garden.And within, the mistress, in the midmost of her youth.White..

© Ezra Pound

The River Song

This boat is of shato-wood, and its gunwales are cutmagnolia,Musicians with jewelled flutes and with pipes of goldFill full the sides in rows, and..

© Ezra Pound

Another Bit And An Offer

I see by the morning papersThat America's sturdy sonsHave started a investigationOf the making of guns.The morning paper tells meThey have asked the..

© Ezra Pound

Fratres Minores

With minds still hovering above their testiclesCertain poets here and in FranceStill sigh over established and natural factLong since fully discussed..

© Ezra Pound

The Baby

The baby new to earth and skyHas never until nowUnto himself the question putOr asked us if the cowIs higher in the mental scaleThan men like me and..

© Ezra Pound

Piccadilly

Beautiful, tragical faces—Ye that were whole, and are so sunken;And, O ye vile, ye that might have been loved,That are so sodden and drunken,Who hath..

© Ezra Pound

The Altar

Let us build here an exquisite friendship,The flame, the autumn, and the green rose of loveFought out their strife here, 'tis a place of wonder;Where..

© Ezra Pound

Epitaphs

Fu IFu I loved the high cloud and the hill,Alas, he died of alcohol.Li PoAnd Li Po also died drunk.He tried to embrace a moonIn the Yellow River.

© Ezra Pound