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A Pact

I make a pact with you, Walt Whitman—
             I have detested you long enough.
             I come to you as a grown child
             Who has had a pig—headed father;
             I am old enough now to make friends.
             It was you that broke the new wood,
             Now is a time for carving.
             We have one sap and one root—
             Let there be commerce between us.
Autres oeuvres par Ezra Pound...



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