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").
Commission
Go, my songs, to the lonely and the unsatisfied,Go also to the nerve-racked, go to the enslaved-by-convention,Bear to them my contempt for their..
© Ezra Pound
Alf’s Fourth Bit
Rudyard the dud yard,Rudyard the false measure,Told 'em that gloryAin't always a pleasure,But said it wuz glorious neverthelessTo lick the boots of..
© Ezra Pound
Ladies
AgathasFour and forty lovers had Agathas in the old days,All of whom she refused;And now she turns to me seeking love,And her hair also is..
© Ezra Pound
Alf’s Eighth Bit
Vex not thou the banker's mind(His what?) with a show of sense,Vex it not, Willie, his mind,Or pierce its pretenceOn the supposition that it everWas..
© Ezra Pound
Alf’s Third Bit
DOLE THE BELL! BELL THE DOLE!Whom can these duds attack?Soapy Sime? Slipp'ry Mac?Naught but a shirt is thereSuch as the fascists wear,Never the man..
© Ezra Pound
Villonaud For This Yule
Towards the Noel that morte saison(Christ make the shepherds' homage dear!)Then when the grey wolves everychoneDrink of the winds their chill..
© Ezra Pound
La Regina Avrillouse
Lady of rich allure,Queen of the spring's embrace,Your arms are long like boughs of ash,Mid laugh-broken streams, spirit of rain unsure,Breath of the..
© Ezra Pound
April
Three spirits came to meAnd drew me apartTo where the olive boughsLay stripped upon the ground:Pale carnage beneath bright mist.
© Ezra Pound
Song In The Manner Of Housman
O woe, woe,People are born and die,We also shall be dead pretty soonTherefore let us act as if we weredead already.The bird sits on the hawthorn..
© Ezra Pound
Quies
This is another of our ancient loves.Pass and be silent, Rullus, for the dayHath lacked a something since this lady passed;Hath lacked a something...
© Ezra Pound
Histrion
No man hath dared to write this thing as yet,And yet I know, how that the souls of all men greatAt times pass athrough us,And we are melted into..
© Ezra Pound
Medallion
Luini in porcelain!The grand pianoUtters a profaneProtest with her clear soprano.The sleek head emergesFrom the gold-yellow frockAs Anadyomene in the..
© Ezra Pound
An Object
This thing, that hath a code and not a core,Hath set acquaintance where might be affections,And nothing nowDisturbeth his reflections.
© Ezra Pound
Historion
No man hath dared to write this thing as yet,And yet I know, how that the souls of all men greatAt times pass athrough us,And we are melted into..
© Ezra Pound
Amities
ITo one, on returning certain years afterYou wore the same quite correct clothing,You took no pleasure at all in my triumphs,You had the same old air..
© Ezra Pound
Sub Mare
It is, and is not, I am sane enough,Since you have come this place has hovered round me,This fabrication built of autumn roses,Then there's a goldish..
© Ezra Pound
Invern
Earth's winter comethAnd I being part of allAnd sith the spirit of all moveth in meI must needs bear earth's winterDrawn cold and grey with hoursAnd..
© Ezra Pound
Ité
Go, my songs, seek your praise from the youngand from the intolerant,Move among the lovers of perfection alone.Seek ever to stand in the hard..
© Ezra Pound
A Villonaud: Ballad Of The Gibbet
SCENE: 'En ce bourdel ou tenons nostre estat.'It being remembered that there were six of us with Master Villon, whenthat expecting presently lo be..
© Ezra Pound
Envoi
Go, dumb-born book,Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes:Hadst thou but songAs thou hast subjects known,Then were there cause in thee that..
© Ezra Pound
Notes For Canto Cxx
have tried to write ParadiseDo not moveLet the wind speakthat is paradise.Let the Gods forgive what Ihave madeLet those I love try to forgivewhat I..
© Ezra Pound
Song Of The Bowmen Of Shu
Here we are, picking the first fern-shootsAnd saying: When shall we get back to our country?Here we are because we have the Ken-nin for our foemen,We..
© Ezra Pound
Silet
When I behold how black, immortal inkDrips from my deathless pen - ah, well-away!Why should we stop at all for what I think?There is enough in what I..
© Ezra Pound
From "Hugh Selwyn Mauberly"
For three years, out of key with his time,He strove to resuscitate the dead artOf poetry; to maintain "the sublime"In the old scene.Wrong from the..
© Ezra Pound
In Tempore Senectutis
When I am oldI will not have you look apartFrom me, into the cold,Friend of my heart,Nor be sad in your remembranceOf the careless, mad-heart..
© Ezra Pound