Ezra Pound

La Regina Avrillouse

Lady of rich allure,
             Queen of the spring’s embrace,
             Your arms are long like boughs of ash,
             Mid laugh—broken streams, spirit of rain unsure,
             Breath of the poppy flower,
             All the wood thy bower
                          And the hills thy dwelling—place.
 
             This will I no more dream;
             Warm is thy arm’s allure,
             Warm is the gust of breath
             That ere thy lips meet mine
             Kisseth my cheek and saith:
             “This is the joy of earth,
             Here is the wine of mirth
                          Drain ye one goblet sure,
 
             Take ye the honey cup
             The honied song raise up,
             Drink of the spring’s allure,
             April and dew and rain;
             Brown of the earth sing sure,
             Cheeks and lips and hair
             And soft breath that kisseth where
                          Thy lips have come not yet to drink.”
 
             Moss and the mold of earth,
             These be thy couch of mirth,
             Long arms thy boughs of shade
             April—alluring, as the blade
             Of grass doth catch the dew
             And make it crown to hold the sun.
             Banner be you
                          Above my head,
             Glory to all wold display’d,
                   April—alluring, glory—bold.
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