Ezra Pound Poems

  • 101.  
    I am a grave poetic hen
    That lays poetic eggs And to enhance my temperament
  • 102.  
    When I am old
    I will not have you look apart From me, into the cold,
  • 103.  
    The little Millwins attend the Russian Ballet.
    The mauve and greenish souls of the little Millwins Were seen lying along the upper seats
  • 104.  
    Phyllidula is scrawny but amorous,
    Thus have the gods awarded her, That in pleasure she receives more than she can give;
  • 105.  
    For three years, out of key with his time,
    He strove to resuscitate the dead art Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
  • 106.  
    The rustling of the silk is discontinued,
    Dust drifts over the court-yard, There is no sound of foot-fall, and the leaves
  • 107.  
    Who, who will be the next man to entrust his girl to a friend?
    Love interferes with fidelities; The gods have brought shame on their relatives;
  • 108.  
    â??Thank you, whatever comes.' And then she turned
    And, as the ray of sun on hanging flowers Fades when the wind hath lifted them aside,
  • 109.  
    Suddenly discovering in the eyes of the very beautiful
    Normande cocotte The eyes of the very learned British Museum assistant.
  • 110.  
    The eyes of this dead lady speak to me,
    For here was love, was not to be drowned out. And here desire, not to be kissed away.
  • 111.  
    A poor clerk I, 'Arnaut the less' they call me,
    And because I have small mind to sit Day long, long day cooped on a stool
  • 112.  
    Midnight, and a letter comes to me from our mistress:
    Telling me to come to Tibur: At once!!
  • 113.  
    When I but think upon the great dead days
    And turn my mind upon that splendid madness, Lo! I do curse my strength
  • 114.  
    Go, my songs, seek your praise from the young
    and from the intolerant, Move among the lovers of perfection alone.
  • 115.  
    Be in me as the eternal moods
    of the bleak wind, and not As transient things areâ??
  • 116.  
    Me happy, night, night full of brightness;
    Oh couch made happy by iny long delectations; How many words talked out with abundant candles;
  • 117.  
    Mr. Styrax 1
  • 118.  
    Thy soul
    Grown delicate with satieties, Atthis.
  • 119.  
    Go, my songs, to the lonely and the unsatisfied,
    Go also to the nerve-racked, go to the enslaved-by-convention, Bear to them my contempt for their oppressors.
  • 120.  
    I join these words for four people,
    Some others may overhear them, O world, I am sorry for you,
  • 121.  
    Come, my songs, let us speak of perfection We shall get ourselves rather disliked.
  • 122.  
    No man hath dared to write this thing as yet,
    And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us,
  • 123.  
    Rest Master, for we be a-weary, weary
    And would feel the fingers of the wind Upon these lids that lie over us
  • 124.  
    The narrow streets cut into the wide highway at Choan, Dark oxen, white horses,
  • 125.  
    â??Tis of my country that I would endite,
    In hope to set some misconceptions right. My country? I love it well, and those good fellows
  • 126.  
  • 127.  
  • 128.  
    As a bathtub lined with white porcelain,
    When the hot water gives out or goes tepid, So is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion,
  • 129.  
    â??Lappo I leave behind and Dante too,
    Lo, I would sail the seas with thee alone!Talk me no love talk, no bought-cheap fiddlâ??ry,
  • 130.  
    Listen, my children, and you shall hear
    The midnight activities of Whats-his Name,Scarcely a general now known to fame
  • 131.  
    Gone while your tastes were keen to you,
    Gone where the grey winds call to you,By that high fencer, even Death,
  • 132.  
    Shades of Callimachus, Coan ghosts of Philetas
    It is in your grove I would walk,I who come first from the clear font
  • 133.  
    After Li Po

  • 134.  
    Hymn to the Dope

  • 135.  
    If all the grief and woe and bitterness,
    All dolour, ill and every evil chanceThat ever came upon this grieving world
  • 136.  
    Les yeux d'une morte
    M'ont salué,Enchassés dans un visage stupide
  • 137.  
    O My songs,
    Why do you look so eagerly and so curiously intopeople's faces,
  • 138.  
    How will this beauty, when I am far hence,
    Sweep back upon me and engulf my mind!
  • 139.  
    Now if ever it is time to cleanse Helicon;to lead Emathian horses afield,
  • 140.  
    The harsh acts of your levity!Many and many.
  • 141.  
    Some may have blamed us that we cease to speak
    Of things we spoke of in our verses early,Saying: a lovely voice is such as such;
  • 142.  
    For the Marriage in Cana of Galilee

  • 143.  
    Io! Io! Tamuz!
    The Dryad staiids in my court-yardWith plaintive, querulous crying.
  • 144.  
    Ha! sir, I have seen you sniffing and snoozling
    about among my flowers.And what, pray, do you know about
  • 145.  
    So-shu dreamed,
    And having dreamed that he was a bird, a bee, and a butterfly,He was uncertain why he should try to feel like anything else,
  • 146.  
    Did I 'ear it 'arf in a doze:
    The Co-ops was a goin' somewhere,Did I 'ear it while pickin' 'ops;
  • 147.  
    Blue, blue is the grass about the river
    And the willows have overfilled the close garden.And within, the mistress, in the midmost of her youth.
  • 148.  
    All night, and as the wind lieth among
    The cypress trees, he lay,Nor held me save as air that brusheth by one
  • 149.  
    1 his papier-mâché, which you see, my friends,
    Saith 'twas the worthiest of editors.Its mind was made up in 'the seventies',
  • 150.  
    Golden rose the house, in the portal I saw
    thee, a marvel, carven in subtle stuff, aportent. Life died down in the lamp and flickered,
Total 257 poems written by Ezra Pound

Poem of the day

Dusk In June
 by Sara Teasdale

Evening, and all the birds
In a chorus of shimmering sound
Are easing their hearts of joy
For miles around.

The air is blue and sweet,
The few first stars are white,-
Oh let me like the birds

Read complete poem

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