Ezra Pound

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

Cino - Poem by Ezra Pound

Italian Campagna 1309, the open road

Bah! I have sung women in three cities,
But it is all the same;
And I will sing of the sun.

Lips, words, and you snare them,
Dreams, words, and they are as jewels,
Strange spells of old deity,
Ravens, nights, allurement:
And they are not;
Having become the souls of song.

Eyes, dreams, lips, and the night goes.
Being upon the road once more,
They are not.
Forgetful in their towers of our tuneing
Once for wind-runeing
They dream us-toward and
Sighing, say, ``Would Cino,
Passionate Cino, of the wrinkling eyes,
Gay Cino, of quick laughter,
Cino, of the dare, the jibe.
Frail Cino, strongest of his tribe
That tramp old ways beneath the sun-light,
Would Cino of the Luth were here!''

Once, twice a year---
Vaguely thus word they:

``Cino?'' ``Oh, eh, Cino Polnesi
The singer is't you mean?''
``Ah yes, passed once our way,
A saucy fellow, but . . .
(Oh they are all one these vagabonds),
Peste! 'tis his own songs?
Or some other's that he sings?
But *you*, My Lord, how with your city?''

My you ``My Lord,'' God's pity!
And all I knew were out, My Lord, you
Were Lack-land Cino, e'en as I am,
O Sinistro.

I have sung women in three cities.
But it is all one.
I will sing of the sun.
. . . eh? . . . they mostly had grey eyes,
But it is all one, I will sing of the sun.

``'Pollo Phoibee, old tin pan, you
Glory to Zeus' aegis-day,
Shield o' steel-blue, th' heaven o'er us
Hath for boss thy lustre gay!

'Pollo Phoibee, to our way-fare
Make thy laugh our wander-lied;
Bid thy 'flugence bear away care.
Cloud and rain-tears pass they fleet!

Seeking e'er the new-laid rast-way
To the gardens of the sun . . .

* * *

I have sung women in three cities
But it is all one.
I will sing of the white birds
In the blue waters of heaven,
The clouds that are spray to its sea."


Comments about Cino by Ezra Pound

  • Fabrizio Frosini (1/29/2016 12:34:00 PM)


    A monologue from Pound’s first collection, A Lume Spento (1908) , which he chose to republish in various later collections of his poems. Its expression and characterization owe much to Pound’s major Victorian influence, Robert Browning.

    Pound wrote to Iris Barry in 1916: ‘The hell is that one catches Browning’s manner and mannerisms. At least I’ve suffered that disease.’
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Read poems about / on: women, sun, heaven, laughter, city, rain, song, dream, wind, sea, light, raven, woman, water



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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