Ité
Go, my songs, seek your praise from the young
and from the intolerant,
Move among the lovers of perfection alone.
Seek ever to stand in the hard Sophoclean light
And take you wounds from it gladly.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Gentildonna
She passed and left no quiver in the veins, who now
Moving among the trees, and clinging
in the air she severed,
Fanning the grass she walked on then, endures:
Grey olive leaves beneath a rain-cold sky.
poem by Ezra Pound
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If the individual, or heretic, gets hold of some essential truth, or sees some error in the system being practiced, he commits so many marginal errors himself that he is worn out before he can establish his point.
quote by Ezra Pound
Added by Lucian Velea
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Poetic Eggs
I am a grave poetic hen
That lays poetic eggs
And to enhance my temperament
A little quiet begs.
We make the yolk philosophy,
True beauty the albumen.
And then gum on a shell of form
To make the screed sound human.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Statement of Being
I am a grave poetic hen
That lays poetic eggs
And to enhance my temperament
A little quiet begs.
We make the yolk philosophy,
True beauty the albumen.
And then gum on a shell of form
To make the screed sound human.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Image From D'Orleans
Young men riding in the street
In the bright new season
Spur without reason
Causing their steeds to leap.
And at the pace they keep
Their horses' armoured feet
Strike sparks from the cobbled street
In the bright new season.
poem by Ezra Pound
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It ought to be illegal for an artist to marry. If the artist must marry let him find someone more interested in art, or his art, or the artist part of him, than in him. After which let them take tea together three times a week.
quote by Ezra Pound
Added by Lucian Velea
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I consider criticism merely a preliminary excitement, a statement of things a writer has to clear up in his own head sometime or other, probably antecedent to writing; of no value unless it come to fruit in the created work later.
quote by Ezra Pound
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ione, Dead the Long Year
Empty are the ways,
Empty are the ways of this land
And the flowers
Bend over with heavy heads.
They bend in vain.
Empty are the ways of this land
Where Ione
Walked once, and now does not walk
But seems like a person just gone.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Cantus Planus
The black panther lies under his rose tree
And the fawns come to sniff at his sides:
Evoe, Evoe, Evoe Baccho, O
ZAGREUS, Zagreus, Zagreus,
The black panther lies under his rose tree.
|| Hesper adest. Hesper || adest.
Hesper || adest.
poem by Ezra Pound
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