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Слушать(AI)Masks
These tales of old disguisings, are they
Strange myths of souls that found themselves
Unwonted folk that spake an hostile tongue,
Some soul from all the rest who'd not
The star-span acres of a former
Where boundless mid the clouds his course he swung,
Or carnate with his elder brothers
Ere ballad-makers lisped of Camelot?
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:
All they that with strange sadness in their
Ponder in silence o'er earth's queynt devyse?
Ezra Pound
Ezra Weston Loomis Pound (30 October 1885 – 1 November 1972) was an expatriate American poet and critic, a major figure in the early modernist p
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Epilogue
O chansons foregoing You were a seven days' wonder When you came out in the magazines You created considerable stir in Chicago, And now you are stale and worn out, You're a very depleted fashion,
Salutation
O generation of the thoroughly smug and thoroughly uncomfortable, I have seen fishermen picnicking in the sun, I have seen them with untidy families, I have seen their smiles full of teeth and heard ungainly laughter
The Plunge
I would bathe myself in strangeness: These comforts heaped upon me, smother me I burn, I scald so for the new,
Ione Dead the Long Year
Empty are the ways, Empty are the ways of this land And the flowers Bend over with heavy heads They bend in vain Empty are the ways of this land Where Ione Walked once, and now does not walk But seems like a person just gone...