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Ezra Pound

N. Y.

My City, my beloved, my white! Ah, slender,
Listen! Listen to me, and I will breathe into thee a soul.
Delicately upon the reed, attend me!
 
Now do I know that I am mad,
For here are a million people surly with traffic;
This is no maid.
Neither could I play upon any reed if I had one.
 
My City, my beloved,
Thou art a maid with no breasts,
Thou art slender as a silver reed.
Listen to me, attend me!
And I will breathe into thee a soul,
And thou shalt live for ever.

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Other works by Ezra Pound...
Song of the Bowmen of Shu

Here we are, picking the first fer… And saying: When shall we get bac… Here we are because we have the K… We have no comfort because of thes… We grub the soft fern—shoots,
Safe and Sound

My name is Nunty Cormorant And my finance is sound, I lend you Englishmen hot air At one and three the pound. I lend you Englishmen hot air
The Bath-Tub

As a bathtub lined with white porc… When the hot water gives out or go… So is the slow cooling of our chiv… O my much praised but-not-altogeth…
Canto 13

Kung walked by the dynastic temple and into the cedar grove, and then out by the lower river, And with him Khieu Tchi
An Object

This thing, that hath a code and n… Hath set acquaintance where might… And nothing now Disturbeth his reflections.
 1
Translations and Adaptations From Heine

FROM '€˜DIE HEIMKEHR’ Is your hate, then, of such measur… Do you, truly, so detest me? Through all the world will I comp… Of how you have addressed me.
 1
To: W A

Or ever the knightly years were go… With the old world to the grave, I was a King in Babylon And you were a Christian Slave. I saw, I took, I cast you by,
The Sea Is Full of Wandering Foam

The sea is full of wandering foam, The sky of driving cloud; My restless thoughts among them ro… The night is dark and loud. Where are the hours that came to m…
Silet

When I behold how black, immortal… Drips from my deathless pen —ah, w… Why should we stop at all for what… There is enough in what I chance… It is enough that we once came tog…
Poetic Eggs

I am a grave poetic hen That lays poetic eggs And to enhance my temperament A little quiet begs. We make the yolk philosophy,
Where Forlorn Sunsets Flare and Fade

Where forlorn sunsets flare and fa… On desolate sea and lonely sand, Out of the silence and the shade What is the voice of strange comma… Calling you still, as friend calls…
Ancient Music

Winter is icummen in, Lhude sing Goddamm. Raineth drop and staineth slop, And how the wind doth ramm! Sing: Goddamm.
Cino

Italian Campagna 1309, the open r… Bah! I have sung women in three c… But it is all the same; And I will sing of the sun. Lips, words, and you snare them,
 1
Song of the Six Hundred M.P.'s

‘We are 'ere met together in this momentous hower, Ter lick th’ bankers’ dirty boots an’ keep the Bank in power. We are 'ere met together
There Is a Wheel Inside my Head

There is a wheel inside my head Of wantonness and wine, An old, cracked fiddle is begging… But the wind with scents of the se… And the sun seems glad to shine.



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