And Ezra, become an old man,
Having been born out of his time, although
born neither too late
nor too early;
And had not charity, although
charity was not the quality he was wanting of…
Become old, an old man in an old city,
the old city lapped by the sea;
Speaking not, not writing,
excepting only fragments,
shards of his thought,
poetry of old age,
old age and ruin.
“The world is not as we would have it
but as we have made it.”
… to have made a start …
“Benito, there was soldier
& a statesman, understd. Art
Economics
& Poetry of his kind
which is in the proper balance —
non crede
né alla possibilità
né all’utilità della
pace perpetua.
Kilt of course
& they like to have kilt me the same — “
Wrong, all wrong, wrong from the start…
But to have made a start, at any rate,
to have had a vision…
A thirty years fury,
China and Pisa conflated,
Jefferson and Mussolini conflated,
H. Adams and Odysseus,
Hell in England,
Satan in Usura, —
To be
To be the stone
To be the stone that splits the in-rushing tide,
And was, some would say he was like that stone —
on which many a foot would stumble,
which could not bear the weight of being builded with,
which, having been spit out from the earth,
returns to earth —
Of such stone, to make Paradise —
Paradise!
Always it comes to this notion of Paradise —
To make Paradise, or “a paradise,” any Paradise,
it is necessary to have had a vision,
it is necessary to have had some plan in mind
And to find Paradise (or any Paradise), it is necessary to walk a long road,
for Paradise is not close by,
and Paradise is not given easily,
it is not a thing given —
For Paradise exists already
and Paradise must be builded;
Paradise must be discovered, and
Paradise must be invented also.
In this it is like a mystery.
O,
it is very like a mystery.
Bag of Anything 