November 20th, 2005
An Immorality
Sing we for love and idleness,
Naught else is worth the having.
Though I have been in many a land,
There is naught else in living.
And I would rather have my sweet,
Though rose-leaves die of grieving,
Than do high deeds in Hungary
To pass all men’s believing.
-Ezra Pound
Tags: Poetry, Ezra Pound
Neha says:
Hmmm… a romantic are you?
November 20th, 2005 at 01:29 pm
K. says:
ofcourse.
November 20th, 2005 at 02:09 pm