Quote

War wreaked on you his hideous ravishment We, we alone, Nereids inviolate, Remain to weep, with the sea-birds to chant: Corinth is lost, Corinth is desolate.

Hilda Doolittle

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Hilda Doolittle
Destruction
Wreaked
Bird
Inviolate
Sea
Chant
Loss
Desolate
Alone
Hideous
War
Weep
Lost
Birds
Remain

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A slight wind shakes the seed-pods my thoughts are spent as the black seeds.
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Passionate grave thought, belief enhanced, ritual returned and magic.
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Sing and your hell is heaven, your heaven less hell.
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You are wind in a stark tree, you are the stark tree unbent, you are a strung bow, you are an arrow.
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Pompeii has nothing to teach us, we know crack of volcanic fissure, slow flow of terrible lava, pressure on heart, lungs, the brain about to burst its brittle case (what the skull can endure!)
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