So I Said I Am Ezra

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1. LET EZRA POUND SPEAK If you have nothing to say keep silent Let Ezra Pound speak From the shadows the splendid old man From the fine water line The magnificent old man Shows you the genuine banknotes of his fortune And all shine legitimate fish Of an infinite river which indeed Never stops. If you have nothing to say […]...
2. Dunes WHAT do we see here in the sand dunes of the white Moon alone with our thoughts, Bill, Alone with our dreams, Bill, soft as the women tying Scarves around their heads dancing, Alone with a picture and a picture coming one after the Other of all the dead, The dead more than all these […]...
3. Exiled Searching my heart for its true sorrow, This is the thing I find to be: That I am weary of words and people, Sick of the city, wanting the sea; Wanting the sticky, salty sweetness Of the strong wind and shattered spray; Wanting the loud sound and the soft sound Of the big surf that […]...
4. Clown In The Moon My tears are like the quiet drift Of petals from some magic rose; And all my grief flows from the rift Of unremembered skies and snows. I think, that if I touched the earth, It would crumble; It is so sad and beautiful, So tremulously like a dream....
5. A Wanderer's Song A WIND’S in the heart of me, a fire’s in my heels, I am tired of brick and stone and rumbling wagon-wheels; I hunger for the sea’s edge, the limit of the land, Where the wild old Atlantic is shouting on the sand. Oh I’ll be going, leaving the noises of the street, To where […]...
6. Domination Of Black At night, by the fire, The colors of the bushes And of the fallen leaves, Repeating themselves, Turned in the room, Like the leaves themselves Turning in the wind. Yes: but the color of the heavy hemlocks Came striding. And I remembered the cry of the peacocks. The colors of their tails Were like the […]...
7. Sea Rose Rose, harsh rose, Marred and with stint of petals, Meagre flower, thin, Sparse of leaf, More precious Than a wet rose Single on a stem You are caught in the drift. Stunted, with small leaf, You are flung on the sand, You are lifted In the crisp sand That drives in the wind. Can the […]...
8. Term At the last minute a word is waiting Not heard that way before and not to be Repeated or ever be remembered One that always had been a household word Used in speaking of the ordinary Everyday recurrences of living Not newly chosen or long considered Or a matter for comment afterward Who would ever […]...
9. Flanders FLANDERS, the name of a place, a country of people, Spells itself with letters, is written in books. “Where is Flanders?” was asked one time, Flanders known only to those who lived there And milked cows and made cheese and spoke the home language. “Where is Flanders?” was asked. And the slang adepts shot the […]...
10. Still hear the waves It was a brave day under an endlessly clear sky That extended forever from our valley To the unfathomably distant sea. It was a day to remember amongst days of Classical splendour and wonderment, From an unoccupied beach and the virgin Sand crisp and crumbling under flying feet, To the tumbling vastness of twinkling ocean […]...
11. Ezra Bartlett A chaplain in the army, A chaplain in the prisons, An exhorter in Spoon River, Drunk with divinity, Spoon River Yet bringing poor Eliza Johnson to shame, And myself to scorn and wretchedness. But why will you never see that love of women, And even love of wine, Are the stimulants by which the soul, […]...
12. Rabbi Ben Ezra Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in His hand Who saith ‘A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!’ Not that, amassing flowers, Youth sighed ‘Which rose make ours, Which […]...
13. Ezra on the Strike Wal, Thanksgivin’ do be comin’ round. With the price of turkeys on the bound, And coal, by gum! Thet were just found, Is surely gettin’ cheaper. The winds will soon begin to howl, And winter, in its yearly growl, Across the medders begin to prowl, And Jack Frost gettin’ deeper. By shucks! It seems to […]...
14. Night Is My Sister, And How Deep In Love Night is my sister, and how deep in love, How drowned in love and weedily washed ashore, There to be fretted by the drag and shove At the tide’s edge, I lie-these things and more: Whose arm alone between me and the sand, Whose voice alone, whose pitiful breath brought near, Could thaw these nostrils […]...
15. Concert Party (EGYPTIAN BASE CAMP) They are gathering round…. Out of the twilight; over the grey-blue sand, Shoals of low-jargoning men drift inward to the sound – The jangle and throb of a piano… tum-ti-tum… Drawn by a lamp, they come Out of the glimmering lines of their tents, over the shuffling sand. O sing us the […]...
16. The Idea Of Order At Key West She sang beyond the genius of the sea. The water never formed to mind or voice, Like a body wholly body, fluttering Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry, That was not ours although we understood, Inhuman, of the veritable ocean. The sea was not a mask. […]...
17. LES BALLONS Against these turbid turquoise skies The light and luminous balloons Dip and drift like satin moons Drift like silken butterflies; Reel with every windy gust, Rise and reel like dancing girls, Float like strange transparent pearls, Fall and float like silver dust. Now to the low leaves they cling, Each with coy fantastic pose, Each […]...
18. The Boiling Water A serious moment for the water is when it boils And though one usually regards it merely as a convenience To have the boiling water available for bath or table Occasionally there is someone Around who understands The importance of this moment for the water-maybe a saint, Maybe a poet, maybe a crazy man, or […]...
19. The South Wind Say So IF the oriole calls like last year When the south wind sings in the oats, If the leaves climb and climb on a bean pole Saying over a song learnt from the south wind, If the crickets send up the same old lessons Found when the south wind keeps on coming, We will get by, […]...
20. Sand Scribblings THE WIND stops, the wind begins. The wind says stop, begin. A sea shovel scrapes the sand floor. The shovel changes, the floor changes. The sandpipers, maybe they know. Maybe a three-pointed foot can tell. Maybe the fog moon they fly to, guesses. The sandpipers cheep “Here” and get away. Five of them fly and […]...
21. Subway Wind Far down, down through the city’s great, gaunt gut, The gray train rushing bears the weary wind; In the packed cars the fans the crowd’s breath cut, Leaving the sick and heavy air behind. And pale-cheeked children seek the upper door To give their summer jackets to the breeze; Their laugh is swallowed in the […]...
22. Mule Song Silver will lie where she lies Sun-out, whatever turning the world does, Longeared in her ashen, earless, Floating world: Indifferent to sores and greengage colic, Where oats need not Come to, Bleached by crystals of her trembling time: Beyond all brunt of seasons, blind Forever to all blinds, Inhabited by Brooks still she may wraith […]...
23. Rondeau Redoublé I know the rules and hear myself agree Not to invest beyond this one night stand. I know your patter: in, out, like the sea. The sharp north wind must blow away the sand. Soon my supply will meet your last demand And you will have no further use for me. I will not swim […]...
24. The Potatoes' Dance (A Poem Game.) I “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “I saw a ball last night, In honor of a lady, In honor of a lady, In honor of a lady, Whose wings were pearly-white. The breath of bitter weather, The breath of bitter weather, The […]...
25. Learning by Doing They’re taking down a tree at the front door, The power saw is snarling at some nerves, Whining at others. Now and then it grunts, And sawdust falls like snow or a drift of seeds. Rotten, they tell us, at the fork, and one Big wind would bring it down. So what they do They […]...
26. Before the Squall The wind is rising on the sea, The windy white foam-dancers leap; And the sea moans uneasily, And turns to sleep, and cannot sleep. Ridge after rocky ridge uplifts, Wild hands, and hammers at the land, Scatters in liquid dust, and drifts To death among the dusty sand. On the horizon’s nearing line, Where the […]...
27. The Petit Vieux “Sow your wild oats in your youth,” so we’re always told; But I say with deeper sooth: “Sow them when you’re old.” I’ll be wise till I’m about seventy or so: Then, by Gad! I’ll blossom out as an ancient beau. I’ll assume a dashing air, laugh with loud Ha! ha! . . . How […]...
28. Golden Silence I told her I loved her and begged but a word, One dear little word, that would be For me by all odds the most sweet ever heard, But never a word said she! I raged at her then, and I said she was cold; I swore she was nothing to me; I prayed her […]...
29. The End Of March For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury It was cold and windy, scarcely the day To take a walk on that long beach Everything was withdrawn as far as possible, Indrawn: the tide far out, the ocean shrunken, Seabirds in ones or twos. The rackety, icy, offshore wind Numbed our faces on one side; […]...
30. What Do You Do About Dry Periods In Your Writing? When the writing is going well, I am a prince in a desert palace, Fountains flowing in the garden. I lean an elbow on a velvet pillow And drink from a silver goblet, Poems like a banquet Spread before me on rugs With rosettes the damask of blood. But exiled From the palace, I wander […]...
31. Bells in the Rain Sleep falls, with limpid drops of rain, Upon the steep cliffs of the town. Sleep falls; men are at peace again While the small drops fall softly down. The bright drops ring like bells of glass Thinned by the wind, and lightly blown; Sleep cannot fall on peaceful grass So softly as it falls on […]...
32. Letter To N. Y For Louise Crane In your next letter I wish you’d say Where you are going and what you are doing; How are the plays and after the plays What other pleasures you’re pursuing: Taking cabs in the middle of the night, Driving as if to save your soul Where the road gose round and round […]...
33. A Vast Confusion Long long I lay in the sands Sounds of trains in the surf In subways of the sea And an even greater undersound Of a vast confusion in the universe A rumbling and a roaring As of some enormous creature turning Under sea and earth A billion sotto voices murmuring A vast muttering A swelling […]...
34. The Merry Guide Once in the wind of morning I ranged the thymy wold; The world-wide air was azure And all the brooks ran gold. There through the dews beside me Behold a youth that trod, With feathered cap on forehead, And poised a golden rod. With mien to match the morning And gay delightful guise And friendly […]...
35. Pretty Halcyon Days How pleasant to sit on the beach, On the beach, on the sand, in the sun, With ocean galore within reach, And nothing at all to be done! No letters to answer, No bills to be burned, No work to be shirked, No cash to be earned, It is pleasant to sit on the beach […]...
36. Wash of Cold River Wash of cold river In a glacial land, Ionian water, Chill, snow-ribbed sand, Drift of rare flowers, Clear, with delicate shell – Like leaf enclosing Frozen lily-leaf, Camellia texture, Colder than a rose; Wind-flower That keeps the breath Of the north-wind These and none other; Intimate thoughts and kind Reach out to share The treasure […]...
37. Tristia I have studied the Science of departures, In night’s sorrows, when a woman’s hair falls down. The oxen chew, there’s the waiting, pure, In the last hours of vigil in the town, And I reverence night’s ritual cock-crowing, When reddened eyes lift sorrow’s load and choose To stare at distance, and a woman’s crying Is […]...
38. Sonnet 21 – Say over again, and yet once over again Say over again, and yet once over again, That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated Should seem ‘a cuckoo-song,’ as thou dost treat it, Remember, never to the hill or plain, Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed. Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted By […]...
39. Harvest Song I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown. All my oats are cradled. But I am too chilled, and too fatigued to bind them. And I hunger. I crack a grain between my teeth. I do not taste it. I have been in the fields all day. My throat is dry. I hunger. My […]...
40. Falling Asleep Voices moving about in the quiet house: Thud of feet and a muffled shutting of doors: Everyone yawning. Only the clocks are alert. Out in the night there’s autumn-smelling gloom Crowded with whispering trees; across the park A hollow cry of hounds like lonely bells: And I know that the clouds are moving across the […]...