Ezra Pound

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

Ezra Pound Poems

81. Society 4/1/2010
82. Dans Un Omnibus De Londres 4/1/2010
83. Night Litany 4/1/2010
84. La Fraisne 4/1/2010
85. Liu Ch'E 4/1/2010
86. The Coming Of War: Actaeon 4/1/2010
87. The Study In Aesthetics 4/1/2010
88. Poem 4/1/2010
89. Threnos 4/1/2010
90. The New Cake Of Soap 4/1/2010
91. The White Stag 4/1/2010
92. Post Mortem Conspectu 4/1/2010
93. Canto Iii 4/1/2010
94. Mesmerism 4/1/2010
95. Les Millwin 4/1/2010
96. Mr. Housman's Message 4/1/2010
97. The Temperaments 4/1/2010
98. Salutation The Third 4/1/2010
99. Salutation The Second 4/1/2010
100. The Social Order 4/1/2010
101. The Picture 4/1/2010
102. The Logical Conclusion 4/1/2010
103. Brennbaum 4/1/2010
104. Dum Capitolium Scandet 4/1/2010
105. Fish And Shadow 4/1/2010
106. Epitaph 4/1/2010
107. Provincia Deserta 4/1/2010
108. Pan Is Dead 4/1/2010
109. Causa 4/1/2010
110. Safe And Sound 4/1/2010
111. Middle-Aged 4/1/2010
112. L'Homme Moyen Sensuel 4/1/2010
113. Exile’s Letter 4/1/2010
114. Separation On The River Kiang 4/1/2010
115. The Flame 4/1/2010
116. Tempora 4/1/2010
117. The River Song 4/1/2010
118. Another Bit And An Offer 4/1/2010
119. Fratres Minores 4/1/2010
120. Tenzone 4/1/2010

Comments about Ezra Pound

  • Emeni Phimu (11/12/2009 5:49:00 AM)

    tell me full reference of this poem also difficult words and word meaning including examples

    30 person liked.
    55 person did not like.
  • Uriah Hamilton (7/12/2005 8:31:00 AM)

    Mad twentieth century poet
    Of brilliance!

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;

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