Car poems

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Thus, except the Lacedaemonians at Granicus;
and then at Issus; and in the final
battle, where the formidable army was swept away
that the Persians had massed at Arbela:
which had set out from Arbela for victory, and was swept away.

Finalities

© Constantine Cavafy

Amid fear and suspicions,
with agitated mind and frightened eyes,
we melt and plan how to act
to avoid the certain

Of The Shop

© Constantine Cavafy

He wrapped them carefully, neatly
in costly green silk.Roses of ruby, lilies of pearl,
violets of amethyst. As he himself judged,as he wanted them, they look beautiful to him; not as he saw
or studied them in nature. He will leave them in the safe,a sample of his daring and skillful craft.

Hidden

© Constantine Cavafy

From all I've done and all I've said
let them not seek to find who I've been.
An obstacle stood and transformed
my acts and way of my life.

Pictured

© Constantine Cavafy

My work, I'm very careful about it, and I love it.
But today I'm discouraged by how slowly it's going.
The day has affected my mood.
It gets darker and darker. Endless wind and rain.

Hidden Things

© Constantine Cavafy

Let them not seek to discover who I was
from all that I have done and said.
An obstacle was there that transformed
the deeds and the manner of my life.

Waiting For The Barbarians

© Constantine Cavafy

Because the barbarians are coming today.
What laws can the senators make now?
Once the barbarians are here, they'll do the legislating.

In Tempore Senectutis

© Ezra Pound

When I am old
I will not have you look apart
From me, into the cold,
Friend of my heart,

Villanelle: The Psychological Hour

© Ezra Pound

I had over prepared the event,
that much was ominous.
With middle-ageing care
I had laid out just the right books.
I had almost turned down the pages.

Hugh Selwyn Mauberly (Part I)

© Ezra Pound

For three years, out of key with his time,
He strove to resuscitate the dead art
Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
In the old sense. Wrong from the start --

Song of the Bowmen of Shu

© Ezra Pound

Here we are, picking the first fern-shoots
And saying: When shall we get back to our country?
Here we are because we have the Ken-nin for our foemen,
We have no comfort because of these Mongols.

Nicotine

© Ezra Pound

Hymn to the Dope
Goddess of the murmuring courts,
Nicotine, my Nicotine,
Houri of the mystic sports,

Masks

© Ezra Pound

Old singers half-forgetful of their tunes,
Old painters color-blind come back once more,
Old poets skill-less in the wind-heart runes,
Old wizards lacking in their wonder-lore:

The Seafarer

© Ezra Pound

(From the early Anglo-Saxon text) May I for my own self song's truth reckon,
Journey's jargon, how I in harsh days
Hardship endured oft.
Bitter breast-cares have I abided,

Cino

© Ezra Pound

Bah! I have sung women in three cities,
But it is all the same;
And I will sing of the sun.

Meditatio

© Ezra Pound

When I carefully consider the curious habits of dogs
I am compelled to conclude
That man is the superior animal.

A Pact

© Ezra Pound

I make a pact with you, Walt Whitman--
I have detested you long enough.
I come to you as a grown child
Who has had a pig-headed father;

Before Sleep

© Ezra Pound

The lateral vibrations caress me,
They leap and caress me,
They work pathetically in my favour,
They seek my financial good.

The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volume 1: 1931-1934

© Anais Nin

"Am I, at bottom, that fervent little Spanish Catholic child who chastised herself for loving toys, who forbade herself the enjoyment of sweet foods, who practiced silence, who humiliated her pride, who adored symbols, statues, burning candles, incense, the caress of nuns, organ music, for whom Communion was a great event? I was so exalted by the idea of eating Jesus's flesh and drinking His blood that I couldn't swallow the host well, and I dreaded harming the it