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Ezra Pound

Ezra Pound

Ité

Go, my songs, seek your praise from the young
                          and from the intolerant,
             Move among the lovers of perfection alone.
             Seek ever to stand in the hard Sophoclean light
             And take you wounds from it gladly.

#Americans #XXCentury

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Other works by Ezra Pound...
To my Wife

Take, dear, my little sheaf of son… For, old or new, All that is good in them belongs Only to you; And, singing as when all was young…
The Study in Aesthetics

The very small children in patched… Being smitten with an unusual wisd… Stopped in their play as she passe… And cried up from their cobbles: Guarda! Ahi, guarda! Ch’ è be’ a!
Phanopoeia

ROSE WHITE, YELLOW, SILV… The swirl of light follows me thro… The smoke of incense Mounts from the four horns of my b… The water-jet of gold light bears…
Alf’s Ninth Bit

Listen, my children, and you shall… The midnight activities of Whats-… Scarcely a general now known to fa… Can tell you of that famous day an… When feeble Mr. Asquith, getting…
The Seafarer

May I for my own self song’s trut… Journey’s jargon, how I in harsh… Hardship endured oft. Bitter breast—cares have I abided… Known on my keel many a care’s hol…
The Sands Are Alive With Sunshine

The sands are alive with sunshine, The bathers lounge and throng, And out in the bay a bugle Is lilting a gallant song. The clouds go racing eastward,
Ts'ai Chi'h

The petals fall in the fountain, the orange-coloured rose-leaves, Their ochre clings to the stone.
Commission

Go, my songs, to the lonely and th… Go also to the nerve-racked, go to… Bear to them my contempt for their… Go as a great wave of cool water, Bear my contempt of oppressors.
 2
Pagani’s, November 8

Suddenly discovering in the eyes o… Normande cocotte The eyes of the very learned Brit…
The Lake Isle

O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patr… Give me in due time, I beseech yo… With the little bright boxes piled up neatly upon the shelves And the loose fragrant cavendish
The Garden

Like a skein of loose silk blown a… She walks by the railing of a path… And she is dying piece—meal of a sort of emotional anæmia. And round about there is a rabble
The Skies Are Strown With Stars

The skies are strown with stars, The streets are fresh with dew A thin moon drifts to westward, The night is hushed and cheerful. My thought is quick with you.
Surgit Fama

There is a truce among the gods, Kore is seen in the North Skirting the blue-gray sea In gilded and russet mantle. The corn has again it’s mother and…
Alf’s Third Bit

DOLE THE BELL! BELL THE… Whom can these duds attack? Soapy Sime? Slipp’ry Mac? Naught but a shirt is there Such as the fascists wear,
The Shadow of Dawn

The shadow of Dawn; Stillness and stars and over-maste… Of Life and Death and Sleep; Heard over gleaming flats, the old… Of the old, unchanging Sea.



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