A Poem for the Frustrated Artisan
I only read it up to "battered books." And I skim the furrin language.
But I won't just hint. Here's the start.
Hugh Selwyn Mauberly (Part I)
by Ezra Pound
For three years, out of key with his time,
He strove to resuscitate the dead art
Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
In the old sense. Wrong from the start --
No, hardly, but, seeing he had been born
In a half savage country, out of date;
Bent resolutely on wringing lilies from the acorn;
Capaneus; trout for factitious bait:
If you really want an earful and peak poetic inspiration to last for years, get "In Their Own Voices" and hear Ol Ez say it himself. He rocks! He booms! He rolls his r's! He's really pissed! Plus you get to hear about a hundred other great poets do their big big thing. It was way cool hearing Whitman. http://outyourbackdoor.com/article.php?id=523