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").
A Virginal
No, no! Go from me. I have left her lately.I will not spoil my sheath with lesser brightness,For my surrounding air hath a new lightness;Slight are..
© Ezra Pound
Ballad For Gloom
For God, our God is a gallant foeThat playeth behind the veil.I have loved my God as a child at heartThat seeketh deep bosoms for rest,I have loved..
© Ezra Pound
The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter
After Li PoWhile my hair was still cut straightacross my foreheadI played at the front gate, pullingflowers.You came by on bamboo stilts..
© Ezra Pound
Canto I
And then went down to the ship,Set keel to breakers, forth on the godly sea, andWe set up mast and sail on that swart ship,Bore sheep aboard her, and..
© Ezra Pound
Before Sleep
The lateral vibrations caress me,They leap and caress me,They work pathetically in my favour,They seek my financial good.She of the spear stands..
© Ezra Pound
Alba
As cool as the pale wet leaves of lily-of-the-valleyShe lay beside me in the dawn.
© Ezra Pound
An Immorality
Sing we for love and idleness,Naught else is worth the having.Though I have been in many a land,There is naught else in living.And I would rather..
© Ezra Pound
Ancient Music
Winter is icummen in,Lhude sing Goddamm.Raineth drop and staineth slop,And how the wind doth ramm!Sing: Goddamm.Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,An ague..
© Ezra Pound
In A Station Of The Metro
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;petals on a wet, black bough.
© Ezra Pound
And The Days Are Not Full Enough
And the days are not full enoughAnd the nights are not full enoughAnd life slips by like a field mouse Not shaking the grass
© Ezra Pound
A Pact
I make a pact with you, Walt Whitman -I have detested you long enough.I come to you as a grown childWho has had a pig-headed father;I am old enough..
© Ezra Pound
A Girl
The tree has entered my hands,The sap has ascended my arms,The tree has grown in my breast -Downward,The branches grow out of me, like arms.Tree you..
© Ezra Pound
Mystery and Solitude in Topeka
Afternoon darkens into evening. A man falls deeper and deeper into the slow spiral of sleep, into the drift of it, the length of it, through what..
© Mark Strand
Old Man Leaves Party
It was clear when I left the partyThat though I was over eighty I still hadA beautiful body. The moon shone down as it willOn moments of deep..
© Mark Strand
WHERE ARE THE WATERS OF CHILDHOOD?
See where the windows are boarded up,where the gray siding shines in the sun and salt airand the asphalt shingles on the roof have peeled or fallen..
© Mark Strand
OUR MASTERPIECE IS THE PRIVATE LIFE
For JulesIIs there something down by the water keeping itself from us,Some shy event, some secret of the light that falls upon the deep,Some source..
© Mark Strand
No Words Can Describe It
How those fires burned that are no longer, how the weather worsened, how the shadow of the seagull vanished without a trace. Was it the end of a..
© Mark Strand
The Mysterious Arrival of an Unusual Letter
It had been a long day at the office and a long ride back to the small apartment where I lived. When I got there I flicked on the light and saw on..
© Mark Strand
The Minister of Culture Gets His Wish
The Minister of Culture goes home after a grueling day at the office. He lies on his bed and tries to think of nothing, but nothing hap-pens or, more..
© Mark Strand
The View
For Derek WalcottThis is the place. The chairs are white. The table shines.The person sitting there stares at the waxen glow.The wind moves the air..
© Mark Strand
When the Vacation is Over for Good
It will be strangeKnowing at last it couldn't go on forever,The certain voice telling us over and overThat nothing would change,And remembering..
© Mark Strand
I Had Been A Polar Explorer
I had been a polar explorer in my youthand spent countless days and nights freezingin one blank place and then another. Eventually,I quit my travels..
© Mark Strand
Futility in Key West
I was stretched out on the couch, about to doze off, when I imagined a small figure asleep on a couch identical to mine. "Wake up, little man, wake..
© Mark Strand
Xvi
It is true, as someone has said, that inA world without heaven all is farewell.Whether you wave your hand or not,It is farewell, and if no tears come..
© Mark Strand
The Prediction
That night the moon drifted over the pond,turning the water to milk, and underthe boughs of the trees, the blue trees,a young woman walked, and for..
© Mark Strand