Blue mountains to the north of the walls,
White river winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.
Mind like a floating wide cloud,
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance.
Our horses neigh to each others
as we are departing.
Do you have any comments, criticism, paraphrasis or analysis of this poem that you feel would assist other visitors in understanding the meaning or the theme of this poem by Ezra Pound better? If accepted, your analysis will be added to this page of American Poems. Together we can build a wealth of information, but it will take some discipline and determination.
corny, cheesy, and hokey are good english translations i think. but those are all very colloquial.
Sometimes Pound is somewhat “weird”(?), but this one is just, well, nice & sad, kind of “scenic”, almost kitschig (don’t know the english word, sorry!), but what it has to say, prevents it from being kitschig. I like it.