The Picture by Ezra Pound The eyes of this dead lady speak t For here was love, was not to be d And here desire, not to be kissed The eyes of this dead lady speak t
And Thus in Nineveh by Ezra Pound Aye! I am a poet and upon my tomb Shall maidens scatter rose leaves And men myrtles, ere the night Slays day with her dark sword. ‘Lo! this thing is not mine
Where Forlorn Sunsets Flare and Fade by Ezra Pound 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
Invern by Ezra Pound Earth’s winter cometh And I being part of all And sith the spirit of all moveth I must needs bear earth’s winter Drawn cold and grey with hours
Portrait D’Une Femme by Ezra Pound Your mind and you are our Sargass London has swept about you this sc And bright ships left you this or Ideas, old gossip, oddments of all Strange spars of knowledge and dim
Ancora by Ezra Pound Good God! They say you are risqué O canzonetti! We who went out into the four A. Composing our albas, We who shook off our dew with the
Sennin Poem by Kakuhaku by Ezra Pound The red and green kingfishers flash between the orchids and clov One bird casts its gleam on anothe Green vines hang through the high They weave a whole roof to the mou
You Played and Sang a Snatch of Song by Ezra Pound You played and sang a snatch of so A song that all-too well we knew; But whither had flown the ancient And was it really I and you? O, since the end of life’s to live
Apparuit by Ezra Pound Golden rose the house, in the port thee, a marvel, carven in subtle s portent. Life died down in the lam caught at the wonder. Crimson, frosty with dew, the rose
Brennbaum by Ezra Pound The sky-like limpid eyes, The circular infant’s face, The stiffness from spats to collar Never relaxing into grace; The heavy memories of Horeb, Sina
