O Lynx,
my love,
my lovely lynx
          O Lynx, my love, my lovely lynx,
          Keep watch over my wine pot,
          Guard close my mountain still
          Till the god come into this whiskey.
     Manitou, god of lynxes, remember our corn.
     Khardas, god of camels
               what the deuce are you doing here?
     I beg your pardon...
   "Prepare to go on a journey."
       "I..."

          "Prepare to go on a journey."
or to count sheep in Phoenician,
          How is it far if you think of it?
So they said to Lidya: no, your body-guard is not the
          town executioner
the executioner is not here for the moment
the fellow who rides beside your coachman
     is just a cossak who executes...
     Which being the case, her holding dear H. J.
               (Mr. James, Henry) literally by the button-hole...
in those so consecrated surroundings
                    (a garden in the Temple, no less)
                    and saying, for once, the right thing
namely: "Cher maître "
to his checqued waistcoat, the Princess Bariatinsky,
as the fish-tails said to Odysseus, evì Tpoíy,

          The moon has a swollen cheek
and when the morning sun lit up the shelves and battalions
of the West, cloud over cloud
                         Old Ez folded his blankets
Neither Eos nor Hesperus has suffered wrong at my hands

--- From The Pisan Cantos
Ezra Pound
©203 New Directions
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