Tuesday 2 August 2016

H.D. (Hilda Doolittle): Birds in Snow



See
how they trace,
across the very-marble
of this place,
bright sevens and printed fours,
elevens and careful eights,
abracadabra
of a mystic's lore
or symbol
outlined
on a wizard's gate.

Like plaques of ancient writ
our garden flags now name
the great and very-great;
our garden flags acclaim
in carven hieroglyph,
here king and kinglet lie,
here prince and lady rest,
mythical queens sleep here
and heroes that are slain

in holy righteous war.
Hieratic, slim and fair,
the tracery written here
proclaims what's left unsaid
in Egypt of her dead.


Published 1928. I find a little of the archaic projections conjured up by Pound and his acolytes like H.D. goes a long way, but this has some brief moments of beauty. Very-marble is an old term for the purest of marble, and by analogy "very-great" must denote the most refined greatness.

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