Ezra Pound

L'aura Amara

from Arnaut Daniel l The bitter air Strips panoply From trees Where softer winds set leaves, And glad, Beaks Now in brakes are coy, Scarce peep that wee Mates And un-mates. What gaud’s the work? What good the glees? What curse I strive to shake! Me hath she cast from high, In fell disease I lie, and deathly fearing. ll So clear the flare That first lit me To seize Her whom my soul believes; If cad Sneaks, Blabs, slanders, my joy Counts little fee Baits And their hates. I scorn their perk And preen, at ease. Disburse Can she, and wake Such firm delights, That I Am hers, froth, lees Bigod! from toe to earring. lll Amor, look yare! Know certainly The keys: How she thy suit receives; No add Piques. ‘Twere folly to annoy I’m true, so dree Fates; No debates Shake me, nor jerk, My verities Turn terse, And yet I ache; Her lips, not snows that fly Have potencies To slake, to cool my searing. lV Behold my prayer, (Or company Of these) Seeks whom such height achieves; Well clad Seeks Her, and would not cloy. Heart apertly States Thought. Hope waits ‘Gainst death to irk: False brevities And worse! To her I raik, Sole her; all others‘ dry Felicities I count not worth the leering. V Ah, fair face, where,  Each quality But frees One pride-shaft more, that cleaves Me; mad frieks (O‘ thy beck) destroy, And mockery Baits Me, and rates. Yet I not shirk Thy velleities, Averse Me not, nor slake Desire. God draws not nigh To Dome, with pleas Wherein’s so little veering. VI Now chant prepare, And melody To please The king, who’ll judge thy sheaves. Worth, sad, Sneaks Here; double employ Hath there. Get thee Plates Full, and cates, Gifts, go! Nor lurk Here till decrees Reverse, And ring thou take Straight t’Arago I’d ply Cross the wide seas But ‘Rome’ disturbs my hearing. Coda At midnight mirk In secrecies I nurse My served make In heart; nor try My melodies At other’s door not mearing.