The Pisan Cantos by Ezra Pound

Author:Ezra Pound
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Tags: American, General, Poetry, lit_guide
ISBN: 9780811215589
Publisher: New Directions
Published: 1948-07-15T22:27:47+00:00

La Fraisne

For I was a gaunt, grave councillor

Being in all things wise, and very old,

But I have put aside this folly and the cold

That old age weareth for a cloak.

I was quite strong-at least they said so-

The young men at the sword-play;

But I have put aside this folly, being gay

In another fashion that more suiteth me.

I have curled 'mid the boles of the ash wood,

I have hidden my face where the oak

Spread his leaves over me, and the yoke

Of the old ways of men have I cast aside.

By the still pool of Mar-nan-otha

Have I found me a bride

That was a dog-wood tree some syne.

She hath called me from mine old ways

She hath hushed my rancour of council,

Bidding me praise

Naught but the wind that flutters in the leaves.

She hath drawn me from mine old ways,

Till men say that I am mad;

But I have seen the sorrow of men, and am glad, For I know that the wailing and bitterness are a folly.

And I? I have put aside all folly and all grief.

I wrapped my tears in an ellum leaf

And left them under a stone

And now men call me mad because I have thrown

All folly from me, putting it aside

To leave the old barren ways of men,

Because my bride

Is a pool of the wood, and

Though all men say that I am mad

It is only that I am glad,

Very glad, for my bride hath toward me a great love That is sweeter than the love of women

That plague and burn and drive one away.

Aie-e! 'Tis true that I am gay

Quite gay, for I have her alone here

And no man troubleth us.

Once when I was among the young men . . .

And they said I was quite strong, among the young men.

Once there was a woman . . .

. . . but I forget . . . she was . .

... I hope she will not come again.

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167

... I do not remember…..

I think she hurt me once, but . . .

That was very long ago.

I do not like to remember things any more.

I like one little band of winds that blow

In the ash trees here:

For we are quite alone

Here 'mid the ash trees.

Ezra Pound

www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive

168

La Regina Avrillouse

Lady of rich allure,

Queen of the spring's embrace,

Your arms are long like boughs of ash,

Mid laugh-broken streams, spirit of rain unsure, Breath of the poppy flower,

All the wood thy bower

And the hills thy dwelling-place.

This will I no more dream;

Warm is thy arm's allure,

Warm is the gust of breath

That ere thy lips meet mine

Kisseth my cheek and saith:

"This is the joy of earth,

Here is the wine of mirth

Drain ye one goblet sure,

Take ye the honey cup

The honied song raise up,

Drink of the spring's allure,

April and dew and rain;

Brown of the earth sing sure,

Cheeks and lips and hair

And soft breath that kisseth where

Thy lips have come not yet to drink."

Moss and the mold of earth,

These be thy couch of mirth,

Long arms thy boughs of shade

April-alluring, as the blade

Of grass doth catch the dew

And make it crown to hold the sun.

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