Monday, February 1, 2010

The Garden by Ezra Pound

En robe de parade.

Like a skien of loose silk blown against a wall
She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens,
And she is dying piece-meal
of a sort of emotional anaemia.

And round about there is a rabble
Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.
They shall inherit the earth.

In her is the end of breeding.
Her boredom is exquisite and excessive.
She would like some one to speak to her,
And is almost afraid that I
will commit that indiscretion.

1 comment:

  1. It is such a wonderful songs. I like the lyrics of the song. Ezra Pound is a great singer and composer. It is such a touchy lyrics.


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