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.
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)
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 … Continue reading Ezra Pound
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; New York: Bartleby.com, 2011)
But I am like the grass, I can not love you. — Ezra Pound, from “Near Perigord,” Selected Poems of Ezra Pound. (New Directions January 17, 1957)
What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross What thou lov’st well shall not be reft from thee What thou lov’st well is thy true heritage Ezra Pound, from “Canto LXXXI,” Cantos of Ezra Pound (New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1993
