Thy soul
Grown delicate with satieties,
Atthis.
O Atthis,
I long for thy lips.
I long for thy narrow breasts,
Thou restless, ungathered.

(C) Ezra Pound
03/18/2017


Best Poems of Ezra Pound

• Alf-s Fourth Bit
• Canto Xlv
• Before Sleep
• The Bath Tub
• Erat Hora
• A Girl
• The City Of Choan
• Meditatio
• Alba
• Tenzone
• A Virginal
• Ité
• A Pact
• Masks
• Canto 13
• The Needle
• The Spring
• A Song Of The Degrees