Ezra Pound

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

The Garrett - Poem by Ezra Pound

Come, let us pity those who are better off than we are.
Come, my friend, and remember
      t hat the rich have butlers and no friends,
And we have friends and no butlers.
Come, let us pity the married and the unmarried.

Dawn enters with little feet
      like a gilded Pavlova
And I am near my desire.
Nor has life in it aught better
Than this hour of clear coolness
      t he hour of waking together.


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Read poems about / on: remember, together, friend, life



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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