When the new green wind cowls the waves into caves,
The ancient bones of ships and slaves,
Gleaming like iv'ry and rattling close,
Are sliding and nudging the floor of the sea.
Back to the deep,
Back to the deep,
Swept from our minds to scream and weep.
When the watery curls of bay and sand
Slip into pools and cover the land,
The mist strides out from the fading dark
and snatches the dawn and the moon in her hand.
Walks in the sand,
Walks in the sand
She squeezes the colors away to grey
And sips and swallows the light of day.
Brunswick
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In A Station at the Metro
ReplyDeleteThe apparition of these faces in the crowd;
petals on a wet, black bough.
Ezra Pound
Once I have enjoyed the painting and read Ezra, I am rendered speechless.
ReplyDeleteSerious editing. He claimed that poem was at one point over 30 lines, but in the end he got it all said in two.
ReplyDeleteI can imagine that the two line poem is more powerful than the thirty line one. If the painting was totally realistic?.......Wouldn't match the poem's strength at all!
ReplyDelete