The Project Gutenberg EBook of Des Imagistes, by Various This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: Des Imagistes An Anthology Author: Various Release Date: December 28, 2015 [EBook #50782] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DES IMAGISTES *** Produced by Jana Srna, Elizabeth Oscanyan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) DES IMAGISTES «Καὶ κείνα Σικελά, καὶ ἐν Αἰτναίαισιν ἔπαιζεν ἀόσι, καὶ μέλος ᾖδε τὸ Δώριον.» Επιτάφιος Βίωνος “And she also was of Sikilia and was gay in the valleys of Ætna, and knew the Doric singing.” DES IMAGISTES AN ANTHOLOGY colophon NEW YORK ALBERT AND CHARLES BONI 96 FIFTH AVENUE 1914 Copyright, 1914 By Albert and Charles Boni CONTENTS Richard Aldington Choricos 7 To a Greek Marble 10 Au Vieux Jardin 11 Lesbia 12 Beauty Thou Hast Hurt Me Overmuch 13 Argyria 14 In the Via Sestina 15 The River 16 Bromios 17 To Atthis 19 H. D. Sitalkas 20 Hermes of the Ways I 21 Hermes of the Ways II 22 Priapus 24 Acon 26 Hermonax 28 Epigram 30 F. S. Flint I 31 II Hallucination 32 III 33 IV 34 V The Swan 35 Skipwith Cannéll Nocturnes 36 Amy Lowell In a Garden 38 William Carlos Williams Postlude 39 James Joyce I Hear an Army 40 Ezra Pound Δώρια 41 The Return 42 After Ch’u Yuan 43 Liu Ch’e 44 Fan-Piece for Her Imperial Lord 45 Ts’ai Chi’h 46 Ford Madox Hueffer In the Little Old Market-Place 47 Allen Upward Scented Leaves from a Chinese Jar 51 John Cournos after K. Tetmaier The Rose 54 Documents To Hulme (T. E.) and Fitzgerald 57 Vates, the Social Reformer 59 Fragments Addressed by Clearchus H. to Aldi 62 Bibliography 63 5 6 CHORICOS The ancient songs Pass deathward mournfully. Cold lips that sing no more, and withered wreaths, Regretful eyes, and drooping breasts and wings— Symbols of ancient songs Mournfully passing Down to the great white surges, Watched of none Save the frail sea-birds And the lithe pale girls, Daughters of Okeanus. And the songs pass From the green land Which lies upon the waves as a leaf On the flowers of hyacinth; And they pass from the waters, The manifold winds and the dim moon, And they come, Silently winging through soft Kimmerian dusk, To the quiet level lands That she keeps for us all, That she wrought for us all for sleep In the silver days of the earth’s dawning— Proserpina, daughter of Zeus. And we turn from the Kuprian’s breasts, And we turn from thee, Phoibos Apollon, And we turn from the music of old And the hills that we loved and the meads, And we turn from the fiery day, And the lips that were over sweet; For silently Brushing the fields with red-shod feet, With purple robe Searing the flowers as with a sudden flame, Death, Thou hast come upon us. And of all the ancient songs Passing to the swallow-blue halls By the dark streams of Persephone, This only remains: That we turn to thee, Death, That we turn to thee, singing One last song. O Death, Thou art an healing wind That blowest over white flowers A-tremble with dew; Thou art a wind flowing Over dark leagues of lonely sea; Thou art the dusk and the fragrance; Thou art the lips of love mournfully smiling; Thou art the pale peace of one Satiate with old desires; Thou art the silence of beauty, And we look no more for the morning We yearn no more for the sun, Since with thy white hands, 7 8 9 Since with thy white hands, Death, Thou crownest us with the pallid chaplets, The slim colourless poppies Which in thy garden alone Softly thou gatherest. And silently, And with slow feet approaching, And with bowed head and unlit eyes, We kneel before thee: And thou, leaning towards us, Caressingly layest upon us Flowers from thy thin cold hands, And, smiling as a chaste woman Knowing love in her heart, Thou sealest our eyes And the illimitable quietude Comes gently upon us. Richard Aldington TO A GREEK MARBLE Πότνια, πότνια White grave goddess, Pity my sadness, O silence of Paros. I am not of these about thy feet, These garments and decorum; I am thy brother, Thy lover of aforetime crying to thee, And thou hearest me not. I have whispered thee in thy solitudes Of our loves in Phrygia, The far ecstasy of burning noons When the fragile pipes Ceased in the cypress shade, And the brown fingers of the shepherd Moved over slim shoulders; And only the cicada sang. I have told thee of the hills And the lisp of reeds And the sun upon thy breasts, And thou hearest me not, Πότνια, πότνια, Thou hearest me not. Richard Aldington 10 AU VIEUX JARDIN I have sat here happy in the gardens, Watching the still pool and the reeds And the dark clouds Which the wind of the upper air Tore like the green leafy boughs Of the divers-hued trees of late summer; But though I greatly delight In these and the water lilies, That which sets me nighest to weeping Is the rose and white colour of the smooth flag-stones, And the pale yellow grasses Among them. Richard Aldington 11 LESBIA Use no more speech now; Let the silence spread gold hair above us Fold on delicate fold; You had the ivory of my life to carve. Use no more speech. . . . . And Picus of Mirandola is dead; And all the gods they dreamed and fabled of, Hermes, and Thoth, and Christ, are rotten now, Rotten and dank. . . . . And through it all I see your pale Greek face; Tenderness makes me as eager as a little child To love you You morsel left half cold on Caesar’s plate. Richard Aldington 12 BEAUTY THOU HAST HURT ME OVERMUCH The light is a wound to me. The soft notes Feed upon the wound. Where wert thou born O thou woe That consumest my life? Whither comest thou? Toothed wind of the seas, No man knows thy beginning. As a bird with strong claws Thou woundest me, O beautiful sorrow. Richard Aldington 13 ARGYRIA O you, O you most fair, Swayer of reeds, whisperer Among the flowering rushes, You have hidden your hands Beneath the poplar leaves, You have given them to the white waters. Swallow-fleet, Sea-child cold from waves, Slight reed that sang so blithely in the wind, White cloud the white sun kissed into the air; Pan mourns for you. White limbs, white song, Pan mourns for you. Richard Aldington 14 IN THE VIA SESTINA O daughter of Isis, Thou standest beside the wet highway Of this decayed Rome, A manifest harlot. Straight and slim art thou As a marble phallus; Thy face is the face of Isis Carven As she is carven in basalt. And my heart stops with awe At the presence of the gods, There beside thee on the stall of images Is the head of Osiris Thy lord. Richard Aldington 15 THE RIVER I I drifted along the river Until I moored my boat By these crossed trunks. Here the mist moves Over fragile leaves and rushes, Colourless waters and brown fading hills. She has come from beneath the trees, Moving within the mist, A floating leaf. II O blue flower of the evening, You have touched my face With your leaves of silver. Love me for I must depart. Richard Aldington 16 BROMIOS The withered bonds are broken. The waxed reeds and the double pipe Clamour about me; The hot wind swirls Through the red pine trunks. Io! the fauns and the satyrs. The touch of their shagged curled fur And blunt horns! They have wine in heavy craters Painted black and red; Wine to splash on her white body. Io! She shrinks from the cold shower— Afraid, afraid! Let the Maenads break through the myrtles And the boughs of the rohododaphnai. Let them tear the quick deers’ flesh. Ah, the cruel, exquisite fingers! Io! I have brought you the brown clusters, The ivy-boughs and pine-cones. Your breasts are cold sea-ripples, But they smell of the warm grasses. Throw wide the chiton and the peplum, Maidens of the Dew. Beautiful are your bodies, O Maenads, Beautiful the sudden folds, The vanishing curves of the white linen About you. Io! Hear the rich laughter of the forest, The cymbals, The trampling of the panisks and the centaurs. Richard Aldington. 17 18 TO ATTHIS (After the Manuscript of Sappho now in Berlin) Atthis, far from me and dear Mnasidika, Dwells in Sardis; Many times she was near us So that we lived life well Like the far-famed goddess Whom above all things music delighted. And now she is first among the Lydian women As the mighty sun, the rose-fingered moon, Beside the great stars. And the light fades from the bitter sea And in like manner from the rich-blossoming earth; And the dew is shed upon the flowers, Rose and soft meadow-sweet And many-coloured melilote. Many things told are remembered of sterile Atthis. I yearn to behold thy delicate soul To satiate my desire. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Richard Aldington 19