Ezra Pound

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

Ezra Pound Poems

201. Salutation 1/3/2003
202. The Bath-Tub 1/3/2003
203. Taking Leave Of A Friend 1/3/2003
204. A Ballad Of The Mulberry Road 4/1/2010
205. Villanelle: The Psychological Hour 1/1/2004
206. E.P. Ode Pour L'Election De Son Sepulchre 1/13/2003
207. Ancient Wisdom, Rather Cosmic 4/1/2010
208. A Villonaud: Ballad Of The Gibbet 4/1/2010
209. Masks 1/1/2004
210. The Encounter 1/13/2003
211. Epilogue 1/3/2003
212. Meditatio 1/3/2003
213. The Garrett 1/3/2003
214. The Seeing Eye 1/1/2004
215. Fan-Piece, For Her Imperial Lord 1/3/2003
216. The Needle 1/3/2003
217. Albatre 4/1/2010
218. These Fought In Any Case 1/1/2004
219. L'Art 1/3/2003
220. In The Old Age Of The Soul 1/1/2004
221. The Plunge 1/1/2004
222. Hugh Selwyn Mauberly (Part I) 1/3/2003
223. The Return 1/3/2003
224. Canto Xiii: Kung Walked 1/3/2003
225. [greek] 4/1/2010
226. Dance Figure 6/30/2003
227. Canto Xlix: For The Seven Lakes 1/3/2003
228. Francesca 1/1/2004
229. Lament Of The Frontier Guard 1/3/2003
230. Tame Cat 1/3/2003
231. The Tree 1/1/2004
232. Cantico Del Sole 1/3/2003
233. The Seafarer 1/3/2003
234. The Garden 1/3/2003
235. Ballad Of The Goodly Fere 1/3/2003
236. Canto 13 1/13/2003
237. Ballad For Gloom 1/3/2003
238. Canto 49 1/13/2003
239. Canto I 1/13/2003
240. The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter 1/13/2003

Comments about Ezra Pound

  • Uriah Hamilton (7/12/2005 8:31:00 AM)

    Mad twentieth century poet
    Of brilliance!

    21 person liked.
    67 person did not like.
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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