Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391261" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Piere Vidal Old</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When I but think upon the great dead days<br>And turn my mind upon that splendid madness,<br>Lo! I do curse my strength<br>And blame the sun his gladness;<br>For that the one is dead<br>And the red sun mocks my sadness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Behold me, Vidal, that was fool of fools!<br>Swift as the king wolf was I and as strong<br>When tall stags fled me through the alder brakes,<br>And every jongleur knew me in his song,<br>And the hounds fled and the deer fled<br>And none fled over long.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Even the grey pack knew me and knew fear.<br>God! how the swiftest hind's blood spurted hot<br>Over the sharpened teeth and purpling lips!<br>Hot was that hind's blood yet it scorched me not<br>As did first scorn, then lips of the Penautier!<br>Aye ye are fools, if ye think time can blot</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From Piere Vidal’s remembrance that blue night.<br>God! but the purple of the sky was deep!<br>Clear, deep, translucent, so the stars me seemed<br>Set deep in crystal; and because my sleep<br>Rare visitor came not, the Saints I guerdon<br>For that restlessness Piere set to keep</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One more fool's vigil with the hollyhocks.<br>Swift came the Loba, as a branch that's caught,<br>Torn, green and silent in the swollen Rhone,<br>Green was her mantle, close, and wrought<br>Of some thin silk stuff that's scarce stuff at all,<br>But like a mist wherethrough her white form fought,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And conquered! Ah God! conquered!<br>Silent my mate came as the night was still.<br>Speech? Words? Faugh! Who talks of words and love?!<br>Hot is such love and silent,<br>Silent as fate is, and as strong until<br>It faints in taking and in giving all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Stark, keen, triumphant, till it plays at death.<br>God! she was white then, splendid as some tomb<br>High wrought of marble, and the panting breath<br>Ceased utterly. Well, then I waited, drew,<br>Half-sheathed, then naked from its saffron sheath<br>Drew full this dagger that doth tremble here.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Just then she woke and mocked the less keen blade.<br>Ah God, the Loba! and my only mate!<br>Was there such flesh made ever and unmade!<br>God curse the years that turn such women grey!<br>Behold here Vidal, that was hunted, flayed,<br>Shamed and yet bowed not and that won at last.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet I curse the sun for his red gladness,<br>I that have known strath, garth, brake, dale,<br>And every run-away of the wood through that great<br>madness,<br>Behold me shrivelled as an old oak's trunk<br>And made men's mock'ry in my rotten sadness!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No man hath heard the glory of my days:<br>No man hath dared and won his dare as I:<br>One night, one body and one welding flame!<br>What do ye own, ye niggards! that can buy<br>Such glory of the earth? Or who will win<br>Such battle-guerdon with his 'prowesse high' ?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O age gone lax! O stunted followers,<br>That mask at passions and desire desires,<br>Behold me shrivelled, and your mock of mocks;<br>And yet I mock you by the mighty fires<br>That burnt me to this ash.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! Cabaret! Ah Cabaret, thy hills again!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Take your hands off me! . . . [Sniffing the air.<br>Ha! this scent is hot!</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>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<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=391261" data-title="Piere Vidal Old de Ezra Pound" data-description="When I but think upon the great dead days
And turn my mind upon that splendid madness,
Lo! I do curse my strength
And blame the sun his gladness;
For that the one is dead
And the red sun mocks my sadness.

Behold me, Vidal, that was fool of fools!..."></div>
</div>
</div>