Of Greeks

I recently discovered or more likely rediscovered (as it seemed to spark something somewhere in my memory) a poem by Ezra Pound that I love, and that perhaps you remember too.

Its title is Greek, which I cannot translate & will not attempt here; the only person I know who can read it pronounces it something like "Doria" and cannot translate it either; from memory, it goes:

Be in me as the the eternal moods
of the bleak wind, and not
As transient things are --
gaiety of flowers.
Have me in the strong loneliness
of sunless cliffs
And of grey waters.
Let the gods speak softly of us
In days hereafter,
The shadowy flowers of Orcus
Remember thee.

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(I have not yet pressed publish, but I guarantee Blogger will fuck with the format; either way you get it.) Yesterday one of the kids came into my office and we recited it to him in turns; he was only a little creeped out, I think.

It is July 3rd! and we all know what that means. Tomorrow is America Day! Happy United States, everybody. We'll see you next week.