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Poetry is not simply a combination of words written down but a window into other minds revealing their thoughts and desires


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A Girl by Ezra Pound

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1 A Girl by Ezra Pound on Fri Dec 31, 2010 12:58 pm

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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.

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