Ezra Pound

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

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.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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  • Stanton Hager (8/20/2006 6:12:00 AM)

    Pound, the fierce fist-pounder on many issues, in his poems was OFTEN movingly LYRICAL-not just in his shorter poems, as this one (and many others well-chosen by Poemhunter) , but in his translations and throughout The Cantos.
    If you haven't yet read his immensely moving Li Po translation, 'The River Merchan't Wife: A Letter, ' treat yourself at this site. I bet you weep. (Report) Reply

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