piggymouse

А теперь, похоже, настало время новыми глазами попробовать почитать товарища Паунда. Хотя он и самовлюблённая зараза, но может, когда захочет. Я всегда знал, что мы, гетеросексуальные мужики, можем, когда захотим.

The Coming Of The War: Actæon

An image of Lethe
and the fields,
Full of faint light
but golden,
Gray cliffs,
and beneath them
A sea
Harsher than granite,
unstill, never ceasing;
High forms
with the movement of gods,
Perilous aspect;
And one said:
“This is Actæon.”
Actæon of golden greaves!
Over fair meadows,
Over the cool face of that field,
Unstill, never moving
Hosts of an ancient people,
The silent cortège.

The Encounter

All the while they were talking the new morality
Her eyes explored me.
And when I arose to go
Her fingers were like the tissue
Of a Japanese paper napkin.

Tempora

Io! Io! Tamuz!
The Dryad stands in my court-yard
With plaintive, querulous crying.
(Tamuz! Io! Tamuz!)
Oh, no, she is not crying: “Tamuz.”
She says: “May my poems be printed this week?
The god Pan is afraid to ask you,
May my poems be printed this week?”

Ну и The Commission, переведённая товарищем nnikif, в оригинале предсказуемо доставляет, особенно в комплекте с The Condolence до и Further Instructions после.