LAUDANTES
wHEN your beauty is grown old in all men's
And my poor words are lost amid that throng,
Then you will know the truth of my poor words,
And mayhap dreaming of the wistful throng
That hopeless sigh your praises in their songs, You will think kindly then of these mad words.
wHEN your beauty is grown old in all men's
And my poor words are lost amid that throng,
Then you will know the truth of my poor words,
And mayhap dreaming of the wistful throng
That hopeless sigh your praises in their songs, You will think kindly then of these mad words.
Ezra-Pound-Provenca-English
That dawn should come so
soon!
"Sweet friend and fair, take we our joy again Down in the garden, where the birds are loud, Till the warder's reed astrain
Cry God! Ah God! That dawn should come so
soon!
" Of that sweet wind that comes from Far-Away Have I drunk deep of my Beloved's breath,
Yea ! of my Love's that is so dear and gay.
Ah God ! Ah God ! That dawn should come so
soon! "
Envoi
Fair is this damsel and right courteous,
And many watch her beauty's gracious ways.
Her heart toward love is no wise traitorous.
Ah God! Ah God! That dawn should come so
soon!
?
LAUDANTES
wHEN your beauty is grown old in all men's
And my poor words are lost amid that throng,
Then you will know the truth of my poor words,
And mayhap dreaming of the wistful throng
That hopeless sigh your praises in their songs, You will think kindly then of these mad words.
I am torn, torn with thy beauty,
O Rose of the sharpest thorn !
O Rose of the crimson beauty,
Why hast thou awakened the sleeper?
Why hast thou awakened the heart within me, O Rose of the crimson thorn?
The unappeasable loveliness
is calling to me out of the wind,
And because your name
is written upon the ivory doors,
The wave in my heart is as a green wave, unconfined, Tossing the white foam toward you;
And the lotus that pours
Her fragrance into the purple cup
Is more to be gained with the foam Than are you with these words of mine.
52
? IV
He speaks to the moonlight concerning the Beloved.
Pale hair that the moon has shaken Down over the dark breast of the sea,
magic her beauty has shaken
About the heart of me;
Out of you have I woven a dream
That shall walk in the lonely vale
Betwixt the high hill and the low hill, Until the pale stream
Of the souls of men quench and grow still.
v
Voices speaking to the sun.
Red leaf that art blown upward and out and over The green sheaf of the world,
And through the dim forest and under
The shadowed arches and the aisles,
We, who are older than thou art,
Met and remembered when his eyes beheld her In the garden of the peach-trees,
In the day of the blossoming.
VI
1 stood on the hill of Yrma
when the winds were a-hurrying,
With the grasses a-bending
I followed them,
Through the brown grasses of Ahva unto the green of Asedon.
53
Laudantes
? Laudantes I have rested with the voices
in the gardens of Ahthor, I have lain beneath the peach-trees
in the hour of the purple:
Because I had awaited in
the garden of the peach-trees, Because I had feared not
in the forest of my mind, Mine eyes beheld the vision of the blossom
There in the peach-gardens past Asedon.
winds of Yrma, let her again come unto me, Whose hair ye held unbound in the gardens of
Ahthor!
vn
Because of the beautiful white shoulders and the rounded breasts
1 can in no wise forget my beloved of the peach-
trees,
And the little winds that speak when the dawn is
unfurled
And the rose-colour in the grey oak-leaf's fold
When it first comes, and the glamour that rests On the little streams in the evening; all of these Call me to her, and all the loveliness in the world Binds me to my beloved with strong chains of gold.
vm
If the rose-petals which have fallen upon my eyes And if the perfect faces which I see at times
54
?
soon!
"Sweet friend and fair, take we our joy again Down in the garden, where the birds are loud, Till the warder's reed astrain
Cry God! Ah God! That dawn should come so
soon!
" Of that sweet wind that comes from Far-Away Have I drunk deep of my Beloved's breath,
Yea ! of my Love's that is so dear and gay.
Ah God ! Ah God ! That dawn should come so
soon! "
Envoi
Fair is this damsel and right courteous,
And many watch her beauty's gracious ways.
Her heart toward love is no wise traitorous.
Ah God! Ah God! That dawn should come so
soon!
?
LAUDANTES
wHEN your beauty is grown old in all men's
And my poor words are lost amid that throng,
Then you will know the truth of my poor words,
And mayhap dreaming of the wistful throng
That hopeless sigh your praises in their songs, You will think kindly then of these mad words.
I am torn, torn with thy beauty,
O Rose of the sharpest thorn !
O Rose of the crimson beauty,
Why hast thou awakened the sleeper?
Why hast thou awakened the heart within me, O Rose of the crimson thorn?
The unappeasable loveliness
is calling to me out of the wind,
And because your name
is written upon the ivory doors,
The wave in my heart is as a green wave, unconfined, Tossing the white foam toward you;
And the lotus that pours
Her fragrance into the purple cup
Is more to be gained with the foam Than are you with these words of mine.
52
? IV
He speaks to the moonlight concerning the Beloved.
Pale hair that the moon has shaken Down over the dark breast of the sea,
magic her beauty has shaken
About the heart of me;
Out of you have I woven a dream
That shall walk in the lonely vale
Betwixt the high hill and the low hill, Until the pale stream
Of the souls of men quench and grow still.
v
Voices speaking to the sun.
Red leaf that art blown upward and out and over The green sheaf of the world,
And through the dim forest and under
The shadowed arches and the aisles,
We, who are older than thou art,
Met and remembered when his eyes beheld her In the garden of the peach-trees,
In the day of the blossoming.
VI
1 stood on the hill of Yrma
when the winds were a-hurrying,
With the grasses a-bending
I followed them,
Through the brown grasses of Ahva unto the green of Asedon.
53
Laudantes
? Laudantes I have rested with the voices
in the gardens of Ahthor, I have lain beneath the peach-trees
in the hour of the purple:
Because I had awaited in
the garden of the peach-trees, Because I had feared not
in the forest of my mind, Mine eyes beheld the vision of the blossom
There in the peach-gardens past Asedon.
winds of Yrma, let her again come unto me, Whose hair ye held unbound in the gardens of
Ahthor!
vn
Because of the beautiful white shoulders and the rounded breasts
1 can in no wise forget my beloved of the peach-
trees,
And the little winds that speak when the dawn is
unfurled
And the rose-colour in the grey oak-leaf's fold
When it first comes, and the glamour that rests On the little streams in the evening; all of these Call me to her, and all the loveliness in the world Binds me to my beloved with strong chains of gold.
vm
If the rose-petals which have fallen upon my eyes And if the perfect faces which I see at times
54
?
