Esra Pound: Francesca
You came in out of the night And there were flowers in your hand, Now you will come out of a confusion of people, Out of a turmoil of speech about you. I who have seen you amid the primal things Was angry when they spoke your name IN ordinary places. I would that the cool waves might flow over my mind, And that the world could dry as a dead leaf, Or as a dandelion see-pod and be swept away, So that I might find you again, Alone. undefinedTi ušla si iz noći Sa cvećem u ruci, A sada ćeš izaći iz dar-mara ljudi, Iz pometnje govora o tebi. Ja koji te videh usred prvobitnih vješči Bio bih besan kada bi govorili tvoje ime Na prosečnim mestima. Hteo bih da mi hladni talasi poplave misli, A svet neka se osuši kao mrtav list, Ili kao maslačkova krljušt i bude pometen, Kako opet mogao ja bih te naći, Sam(u). undefined |
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