Года три назад скачал почти всего Донна (уж стихи-то точно все). А теперь в сети его куда меньше, только на luminarium, в уродливом оформлении. И вообще не понять -- прибывает со временем в сети литературный контент или убывает.

О, как мы любим лицемерить
 И забываем без труда
 То, что мы в детстве ближе к смерти,
 Чем в наши зрелые года.
 
 Еще обиду тянет с блюдца
 Невыспавшееся дитя,
 А мне уж не на кого дуться
 И я один на всех путях.
 
 Линяет зверь, играет рыба
 В глубоком обмороке вод --
 И не смотреть бы на изгибы
 Людских страстей, людских забот.
 

vosledov

     Jim X...
         in a bankers' meeting,
         bored with their hard luck stories
 Bored with their bloomin' primness
         and the little white rims
 They wore around inside the edge of their vests
 To make 'em look as if they had on two waistcoats,
 Told 'em the Tale of the Honest Sailor.
 Bored with their proprieties,
          as they sat, the ranked presbytarians,
 Directors, dealers through holding companies,
 Deacons in churches, owning slum properties,
 Alias usurers in excelsis,
              the quintessential essence of usurers,
 The purveyors of employment, whining over their 20 p. c.
         and the hard times,
 And the bust-up of Brazilian securities,
         (S. A. securities),
 And the general uncertainty of all investment
 Save investment in new bank buildings,
         productive of bank buildings,
 And not likely to ease distribution,
 Bored with the way their mouthes twitched
         over their cigar-ends,
             Said Jim X...:
 There was once a pore honest sailor, a heavy drinker,
 A hell of a cuss, a rowster, a boozer, and
 The drink finally sent him to hospital,
 And they operated, and there wase a poor whore in
 The woman's ward had a kid, while
 They were fixing the sailor, and they brought him the kid
 When he came to, and said:
         "Here! this is what we took out of you."
 
 An' he looked at it, an' he got better,
 And when he left the hospital, quit the drink,
 And when he was well enough
         signed on with another ship
 And saved up his pay money,
         and kept on savin' his pay money,
 And bought a share in the ship,
         and finally had half shares,
 Then a ship
         and in a time a whole line of steamers;
 And educated the kid,
         and when the kid was in college,
 The ole sailor was again taken bad
         and the doctors said he was dying,
 And the boy came to the bedside,
         and the old sailor said:
 "Boy, I'm sorry I can't hang on a bit longer,
 "You're young yet.
         I leave you re-sponsa-bilities.
 "Wish I could ha' waited till you were older,
 "More fit to take over the bisness..."
         "But, father,
 "Don't, don't talk about me, I'm all right,
 "It's you, father."
         "That's it, boy, you said it.
 "You called my your father, and I ain't.
 "I ain't your dad, no,
 "I am not your fader but your moder," quod he,
 "Your fader was a rich merchant in Stambouli."
 

The girl in the tea shop
              Is not as beautiful as she was,
 The August has worn against her.
 She does not get up the stairs so eagerly;
 Yes, she also will turn middle-aged,
 And the glow of youth that she spread about us
                   As she brought us our muffins
 Will be spread about us no longer.
                   She also will turn middle-aged.
 

Спасибо большое za8 за Life of Ezra Pound by Noel Stock, книга интересная и полезная, хотя и без трепета перед великим поэтом. Скажем, о Canto 36:

The canto ends with some fragmentary speculation by Pound about copulation and clear thinking, from which it appears that Aquinas thought with his "head down in a vacuum" and Aristotle with his "not quite in a vacuum."

Вышла собака в саду погулять
 Слышит откуда-то: Как тебя звать?
 Милая? --
 -- Звать меня Альмой, а кто это спрашиват? --
 -- А тот, кто шерстинки твои изукрашивает!
 Кто звезды на небе ночами крепит
 Кто бодрствует, когда в беспамятстве спит
 Всякий! --
 -- Я тоже не сплю по ночам! -- тихо отвечает Альма