Poems ✍️
  21.11.2025
  22

Author: Ezra Pound

Tempora

Io! Io! Tamuz!
The Dryad staiids in my court-yard
With plaintive, querulous crying.
(Tamuz. Io! Tamuz!)
Oh, no, she is not crying: 'Tamuz.'
She says, 'May my poems be printed this week?
The god Pan is afraid to ask you,
May my poems be printed this week?'


  Poetry Divine plea

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