Poem by Ezra Weston Loomis Pound

Planh

   It is of the white thoughts that he saw in the Forest.

   White Poppy, heavy with dreams,
   O White Poppy, who art wiser than love,
   Though I am hungry for their lips
           When I see them a-hiding
   And a-passing out and in through the shadows
   --There in the pine wood it is,
   And they are white, White Poppy,
   They are white like the clouds in the forest of the sky
   Ere the stars arise to their hunting.

   O White Poppy, who art wiser than love,
   I am come for peace, yea from the hunting
   Am I come to thee for peace.
   Out of a new sorrow it is,
   That my hunting hath brought me.

   White Poppy, heavy with dreams,
   Though I am hungry for their lips
           When I see them a-hiding
   And a-passing out and in through the shadows
   --And it is white they are--
   But if one should look at me with the old hunger in her eyes,
   How will I be answering her eyes?

   For I have followed the white folk of the forest.

   Aye! It's a long hunting
   And it's a deep hunger I have when I see them a-gliding
   And a-flickering there, where the trees stand apart.

   But oh, it is sorrow and sorrow
   When love dies-down in the heart.

1. Villonaud for This Yule
2. La Regina Avrillouse
3. Nicotine
4. Cantico del Sole
5. Masks

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