Lie Quiet, Ezra, there in your Campo Santo on San Michele
In Paradisum te deducant angeli
To your city of Dicoe, to Wagodu,
To your paradiso terrestre
What I have reft from you
I stole for love of you
Beloved, my master and my friend.
James Laughlin’s For Ezra Pound
The experiences are great, the possibilities continually endless for the days. Though – there is one thing that currently creates a paradiso terrestre, the inclusion of our studies. The ability for us, as students, to continually have a critical eye to the experience. Sure, experience it – but also know what it is your experiencing. Be able to step back and look, while being able to fulfill the role. The words of Ezra Pound have striked me beyond belief – their simplicity, but depth. It might be the influence of the immediate world around me – but I understand something about poetry that I wasn’t able to before. That has opened me up to a world of other poets.
I’ve been keeping ahead of my classwork, doing homework the night after the class was had. On top of this, I’ve been devouring books and papers like they’re going out of style – which in fact, they might be.
My luggage still has not arrived – and I’m doubting if it ever will, though I am in constant contact with them.
On a further note, the following is a short section of Pound’s Canto 116:
But the beauty is not the madness
tho’ my errors and wrecks lie about me.
And I am not a demigod,
I cannot make it cohere.
If love be not in the house there is nothing.