Ezra Pound

(30 October 1885 – 1 November 1972 / Hailey / Idaho)

Ezra Pound Poems

1. Canto Xlv 1/10/2015
2. To Êáëüí (Greek Title) 4/1/2010
3. Translations And Adaptations From Heine 4/1/2010
4. Old Idea Of Choan By Rosoriu 4/1/2010
5. Homage To Sextus Propertius - X 4/1/2010
6. Homage To Quintus Septimus Florentis Christianus 4/1/2010
7. Of Jacopo Del Sellaio 4/1/2010
8. Homage To Sextus Propertius - Vii 4/1/2010
9. Satiemus 4/1/2010
10. Marvoil 4/1/2010
11. Paracelsus In Excelsis 4/1/2010
12. Homage To Sextus Propertius - Ix 4/1/2010
13. Homage To Sextus Propertius - Vi 4/1/2010
14. Song Of The Six Hundred M.P.'s 4/1/2010
15. Phyllidula 4/1/2010
16. M. Pom-Pom 4/1/2010
17. Sennin Poem By Kakuhaku 4/1/2010
18. Dieu! Qu'Il La Fait 4/1/2010
19. ßìýñññù (Greek Title) 4/1/2010
20. Horae Beatae Inscripto 4/1/2010
21. Homage To Sextus Propertius - Viii 4/1/2010
22. Homage To Sextus Propertius - Xi 4/1/2010
23. Homage To Sextus Propertius - Ii 4/1/2010
24. Leave-Taking Near Shoku 4/1/2010
25. Guido Invites You Thus 4/1/2010
26. Prayer For His Lady’s Life 4/1/2010
27. Mauberley 4/1/2010
28. Our Contemporaries 4/1/2010
29. Praise Of Ysolt 4/1/2010
30. Na Audiart 4/1/2010
31. Homage To Sextus Propertius - Xii 4/1/2010
32. Planh For The Young English King 4/1/2010
33. Threnos 4/1/2010
34. The Charge Of The Bread Brigade 4/1/2010
35. National Song (E.C.) 4/1/2010
36. To-Em-Meps ‘the Unmoving Cloud' 4/1/2010
37. Famam Librosque Cano 4/1/2010
38. For E. Mcc 4/1/2010
39. Her Monument, The Image Cut Thereon 4/1/2010
40. Poem By The Bridge At Ten-Shin 4/1/2010
Best Poem of Ezra Pound

A Girl

The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast -
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.

Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world.

Read the full of A Girl

Histrion

No man hath dared to write this thing as yet,
And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great
At times pass athrough us,
And we are melted into them, and are not
Save reflexions of their souls.
Thus am I Dante for a space and am
One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and thief,
Or am such holy ones I may not write
Lest blasphemy be writ against my name;

[Hata Bildir]