Ezra Pound

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

Ezra Pound Poems

241. To Dives 4/1/2010
242. To Êáëüí (Greek Title) 4/1/2010
243. To Whistler, American 4/1/2010
244. To-Em-Meps ‘the Unmoving Cloud' 4/1/2010
245. Translations And Adaptations From Heine 4/1/2010
246. Ts'Ai Chi'H 1/1/2004
247. Villanelle: The Psychological Hour 1/1/2004
248. Villonaud For This Yule 1/3/2003
249. Women Before A Shop 4/1/2010
250. Yeux Glauques 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

The Needle

Come, or the stellar tide will slip away.
Eastward avoid the hour of its decline,
Now! for the needle trembles in my soul!

Here have we had the vantage, the good hour.
Here we have had our day, your day and mine.
Come now, before this power
That bears us up, shall turn against the pole.
Mock not the flood of stars, the thing's to be.

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