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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391171" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Donna Mi Prega</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Because a lady asks me, I would tell<br>Of an affect that comes often and is fell<br>And is so overweening; Love by name.<br>E'en its deniers can now hear the truth,<br>I for the nonce to them that know it call,<br>Having no hope at all<br>that man who is base in heart<br>Can bear his part of wit<br>into the light of it,<br>And save they know't aright from nature's source<br>I have no will to prove Love's course<br>or say<br>Where he takes rest; who maketh him to be;<br>Or what his active virtu is, or what his force;<br>Nay, nor his very essence or his mode;<br>What his placation; why he is in verb,<br>Or if a man have might<br>To show him visible to men's sight.<br>In memory's locus taketh he his state Place<br>Formed there in manner as a mist of light<br>Upon a dusk that is come from Mars and stays.<br>Love is created, hath a sensate name,<br>His modus takes from soul, from heart his will;<br>From form seen doth he start, that, understood,<br>Taketh in latent intellect<br>As in a subject ready<br>place and abode,<br>Yet in that place it ever is unstill,<br>Spreading its rays, it tendeth never down<br>By quality, but is its own effect unendingly<br>Not to delight, but in an ardour of thought<br>That the base likeness of it kindleth not.<br>It is not virtu, but perfection's source <br>Lying within perfection postulate<br>Not by the reason, but ‘tis felt, I say.<br>Beyond salvation, holdeth its judging force,<br>Maintains intention reason's peer and mate;<br>Poor in discernment, being thus weakness' friend,<br>Often his power meeteth with death in the end<br>Be he withstayed<br>or from true course<br>bewrayed<br>E'en though he meet not with hate or villeiny<br>Save that perfection fails, be it but a little;<br>Nor can man say he hath his life by chance<br>Or that he hath not stablished seigniory<br>Or loseth power, e'en lost to memory.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He comes to be and is when will's so great <br>It twists itself from out all natural measure; <br>Leisure s adornment puts he then never on,<br>Never thereafter, but moves changing state,<br>Moves changing colour, or to laugh or weep<br>Or wries the face with fear and little stays,<br>Yea, resteth little<br>yet is found the most<br>Where folk of worth be host.<br>And his strange property sets sighs to move<br>And wills man look into unformed space<br>Rousing there thirst<br>that breaketh into flame.<br>None can imagine love<br>that knows not love;<br>Love doth not move, but draweth all to him;<br>Nor doth he turn<br>for a whim<br>to find delight<br>Nor to seek out, surely,<br>great knowledge or slight.<br>Look drawn from like, <br>delight maketh certain in seeming<br>Nor can in covert cower,<br>beauty so near,<br>Not yet wild-cruel as darts,<br>So hath man craft from fear<br>in such his desire<br>To follow a noble spirit,<br>edge, that is, and point to the dart,<br>Though from her face indiscernible;<br>He, caught, falleth<br>plumb the spike of the targe.<br>Who well proceedeth, form not seeth,<br>following his own emanation.<br>There, beyond colour, essence set apart,<br>In midst of darkness light light giveth forth<br>Beyond all falsity, worthy of faith, alone<br>That in him solely is compassion born.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Safe may'st thou go my canzon whither thee pleaseth<br>Thou art so fair attired that every man and each<br>Shall praise thy speech<br>So we have sense or glow with reason's fire,<br>To stand with other<br>hast thou no desire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ezra+Pound">Ezra Pound</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391171" data-title="Donna Mi Prega de Ezra Pound" data-description="Because a lady asks me, I would tell
Of an affect that comes often and is fell
And is so overweening; Love by name.
E'en its deniers can now hear the truth,
I for the nonce to them that know it call,
Having no hope at all
that man who is base in h..."></div>
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