A Girl A Poem By Ezra Pound

The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast-
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.

 

Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child – so high – you are,
And all this is folly to the world.

 

 

 

 

***

 

Ezra Pound

 

Poems by Ezra Pound

 

 

 

Ezra Pound