The smeared, leather-coated, leather-greaved engineerWalks in front of his traction-engineLike some figure out of the sagas,Like Grettir or like Skarpheddin,With a sort of majestical swagger.And his machine lumbers after himLike some mythological beast,Like Grendel bewitched and in chains,But his ill luck will make me no sagas,Nor will you crack the riddle of his skull,O youContinue reading “1915 February : Ezra Pound :”