Not my Poem

 

THE GARDEN

by: Ezra Pound (1885-1972)

IKE a skein of loose silk blown against a wall

She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens,

And she is dying piece-meal

of a sort of emotional anemia.

 

And round about there is a rabble

Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.

They shall inherit the earth.

 

In her is the end of breeding.

Her boredom is exquisite and excessive.

 

She would like some one to speak to her,

And is almost afraid that I

will commit that indiscretion.

AN IMMORALITY

by: Ezra Pound (1885-1972)

ING we for love and idleness,

Naught else is worth the having.

 

Though I have been in many a land,

There is naught else in living.

 

And I would rather have my sweet,

Though rose-leaves die of grieving,

 

Than do high deeds in Hungary

To pass all men's believing.

Reviews

[Raef C. Boylan]

Read a little bit about Erza Pound yesterday, coincidentally, and the whole Futurist/Fascist thing...which I think influenced my reading of these two poems.
Cool that you're sharing the poetry of others on here though, thanks.

[Crowley]

Crazy good....

[Kennedy]

I like em ^_^

[luciddreamer]

I have tried to read these two times now...in two total different moods...I guess the mood swings are bad today ...anyhow...the first one I think I really relate to....the 2nd is going over my head at the moment...maybe tomorrow :)

[Crow]

I truly enjoyed your choices, if only to have the spirit the old masters portrayed through their works of art.