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User Rating: |
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8.7
/10
(29
votes)
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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.
Ezra Pound
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Read poems about / on: tree, child, wind, world, girl, children
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Comments about this poem (A Girl
by
Ezra Pound
) |
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Ezra Pound
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Krisc Ononukwe
(9/17/2009 8:16:00 AM) |
This is a poem with a tense romantic tension full of wisdom
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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.
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