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.
No wonder he ended in the insane asylum!
Really, very, very beautiful.
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.
This is a poem with a tense romantic tension full of wisdom
a great one! master of imagist poem!
Beautiful poem full of metaphors and great images.
Well articulated and nicely brought forth with conviction.........
Moving from romanticism to modernism. Everyone could be beloved.
for the superb
for the super high
Lovely lines that are loaded with life and creativity
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10/19/2021 8:10:39 PM # 22.214.171.1246