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 -
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

Taking Leave Of A Friend

Blue mountains to the north of the walls,
White river winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.

Mind like a floating wide cloud,
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance.
Our horses neigh to each others

[Hata Bildir]