Be in me as the eternal moods
of the bleak wind, and not
As transient things are—
gaiety of flowers.
Have me in the strong loneliness
of sunless cliffs
And of gray waters.
Let the gods speak softly of us
In days hereafter,
the shadowy flowers of Orcus
Remember thee.

by Ezra Pound

Comments (1)

My gift shall be my absence, while I live; But after that, my dear, I can not swear. Nice write. Thanks for sharing.