And the days are not full enough And the nights are not full enough And life slips by like a field mouse Not shaking the grass — Ezra Pound, “And the Days Are Not Full Enough,” Collected Early Poems of Ezra Pound. Edited by Michael King. (New Directions Publishing November 17, 1982)
A brown, fat babe sitting in the lotus, And you were glad and laughing With a laughter not of this world. It is good to splash in the water And laughter is the end of all things. — Ezra Pound, “Post Mortem Conspectu,” Collected Early Poems of Ezra Pound. Edited by Michael King. (New Directions… Continue reading Ezra Pound
Come, let us pity those who are better off than we are. Come, my friend, and remember that 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… Continue reading Ezra Pound
And so the space Of my still consciousness Is full of gilded snow, The which, no cat has eyes enough To see the brightness of. — Ezra Pound, from “Middle-Aged,” Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22. Edited by Harriet Monroe. (Chicago, 1912–22)
Rhythm is a form cut into TIME, as a design is determined SPACE. — Ezra Pound, from “Treatise on Metre,” The Structure of Verse: Modern Essays on Prosody, ed. Harvey Gross (Ecco, 1996) Originally published August 1979.
All the while they were talking the new morality Her eyes explored me. And when I rose to go Her fingers were like the tissue Of a Japanese paper napkin. — Ezra Pound, “The Encounter,” Selected Poems. (New Directions January 17, 1957) Originally published 1928.
The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet, black bough. —Ezra Pound, “In a Station of the Metro,” Personæ: The Shorter Poems. (New Directions; 1 edition September 17, 1990) Originally published 1971.