La Fraisne

For I was a gaunt, grave councillor

Being in all things wise, and very old,

But I have put aside this folly and the cold

That old age weareth for a cloak.

5

I was quite strong—at least they said so—

The young men at the sword-play;

But I have put aside this folly, being gay

In another fashion that more suiteth me.

I have curled ’mid the boles of the ash wood,

10

I have hidden my face where the oak

Spread his leaves over me, and the yoke

Of the old ways of men have I cast aside.

By the still pool of Mar-nan-otha

Have I found me a bride

15

That was a dog-wood tree some syne.

She hath called me from mine old ways

She hath hushed my rancour of council,

Bidding me praise

Naught but the wind that flutters in the leaves.

20

She hath drawn me from mine old ways,

Till men say that I am mad;

But I have seen the sorrow of men, and am glad,

For I know that the wailing and bitterness are a folly.

And I? I have put aside all folly and all grief.

25

I wrapped my tears in an ellum leaf

And left them under a stone

And now men call me mad because I have thrown

All folly from me, putting it aside

To leave the old barren ways of men,

30

Because my bride

Is a pool of the wood, and

Though all men say that I am mad

It is only that I am glad,

Very glad, for my bride hath toward me a great love

35

That is sweeter than the love of women

That plague and burn and drive one away.

Aie-e! ’Tis true that I am gay

Quite gay, for I have her alone here

And no man troubleth us.

40

Once when I was among the young men . . .

And they said I was quite strong, among the young men.

Once there was a woman . . .

. . . but I forget . . . she was . .

. . . I hope she will not come again.

45

. . . I do not remember. . . . .

I think she hurt me once, but . .

That was very long ago.

I do not like to remember things any more.

I like one little band of winds that blow

50

In the ash trees here:

For we are quite alone

Here 'mid the ash trees.

—
Ezra Pound

Personæ, 1926