Ezra Pound - SatiemusEzra Pound - Satiemus
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What if I know thy speeches word by word?
And if thou knew`st I knew them wouldst thou speak?
What if I know thy speeches word by word,
And all the time thou sayest them o`er I said,
`Lo, one there was who bent her fair bright head,
Sighing as thou dost through the golden speech.`
Or, as our laughters mingle each with each,
As crushed lips take their respite fitfully,
What if my thoughts were turned in their mid reach
Whispering among them, `The fair dead
Must know such moments, thinking on the grass;
On how white dogwoods murmured overhead
In the bright glad days!`
How if the low dear sound within thy throat
Hath as faint lute-strings in its dim accord
Dim tales that blind me, running one by one
With times told over as we tell by rote;
What if I know thy laughter word by word
Nor find aught novel in thy merriment ?
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