A Song of the Degrees


Rest with me Chinese colours,
For I think the glass is evil.


The wind moves above the wheat-
With a silver crashing,
A thin war of metal.

I have known the golden disc,
I have seen it melting above me.
I have known the stone-bright place,

            The hall of clear colours.

From: Selected Poems and Translations of Ezra Pound 1908-1969
Published by Faber and Faber

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