by Ezra Pound

    For three years， out of key with his time，

    He strove to resuscitate¹ the dead art

    Of poetry； to maintain "the sublime²"

    In the old scene.  Wrong from the start——

    No， hardly， but seeing he had been born

    In a half-savage country， out of date；

    Bent³ resolutely⁴ on wringing⁵ lilies from the acorn⁶；

    Capaneus； trout⁷ for factitious bait；

    [idmen gar toi pant， hos eni Troiei]

    Caught in the unstopped ear；

    Giving the rocks small lee-way

    The chopped seas held him， therefore， that year.

    His true Penelope was Flaubert，

    He fished by obstinate⁸ isles⁹；

    Observed the elegance¹⁰ of Circe's hair

    Rather than the mottoes on sun-dials.

    Unaffected by "the march of events，"

    He passed from men's memory in l'an trentuniesme

    De son eage； the case presents

    No adjunct to the Muses¹¹' diadem¹².

    II

    The age demanded an image

    Of its accelerated grimace¹³，

    Something for the modern stage，

    Not， at any rate， an Attic¹⁴ grace；

    Not， not certainly， the obscure reveries

    Of the inward gaze；

    Better mendacities

    Than the classics in paraphrase¹⁵！

    The "age demanded" chiefly a mould in plaster，

    Made with no loss of time，

    A prose kinema， not， not assuredly， alabaster¹⁷

    Or the "sculpture" of rhyme.

    IV

    These fought in any case，

    and some believing，

    pro¹⁶ domo， in any case . . .

    Some quick to arm，

    some for adventure，

    some from fear of weakness，

    some from fear of censure¹⁸，

    some for love of slaughter¹⁹， in imagination，

    learning later . . .

    some in fear， learning love of slaughter；

    Died some， pro patria，

    non "dulce" non "et decor" . . .

    walked eye-deep in hell

    believing in old men's lies， then unbelieving

    came home， home to a lie，

    home to many deceits，

    home to old lies and new infamy²⁰；

    usury²¹ age-old and age-thick

    and liars²² in public places.

    Daring as never before， wastage as never before.

    Young blood and high blood，

    fair cheeks， and fine bodies；

    fortitude²³ as never before

    frankness as never before，

    disillusions²⁴ as never told in the old days，

    hysterias， trench²⁵ confessions²⁶，

    laughter out of dead bellies²⁷.

    V

    There died a myriad²⁸，

    And of the best， among them，

    For an old bitch gone in the teeth，

    For a botched civilization，

    Charm， smiling at the good mouth，

    Quick eyes gone under earth's lid，

    For two gross of broken statues，

    For a few thousand battered²⁹ books.

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