{"id":115539,"date":"2017-09-15T11:50:40","date_gmt":"2017-09-15T15:50:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=115539"},"modified":"2017-09-17T20:25:39","modified_gmt":"2017-09-18T00:25:39","slug":"finding-lost-ezra-pound-poem-castle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2017\/09\/15\/finding-lost-ezra-pound-poem-castle\/","title":{"rendered":"On Finding a Lost Ezra Pound Poem in a Castle"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/a>

The Schloss Brunnenburg, where Ezra Pound once lived.<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hast thou 2 loaves of bread
\nSell one + with the dole
\nBuy straightaway some hyacinths
\nTo feed thy soul. \u2014Ezra Pound<\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I found this short poem by Ezra Pound as I was researching a book about Pound\u2019s years in Saint Elizabeths Hospital. It appears for the first time in my book\u00a0The Bughouse<\/em><\/a>\u00a0and in the Fall issue of The<\/em> Paris Review<\/i><\/a>. Finding a previously unpublished poem by Ezra Pound sounds both adventurous and grittily archival, but really, this was neither. It was waiting in an obvious place: in the Schloss Brunnenburg, in the Tyrol, in Northern Italy, which is the fairy-tale castle where Pound lived late in his life, and where his daughter still lives today. The poem wasn\u2019t lost, it just hadn\u2019t been found; and perhaps this is because it doesn\u2019t look quite right. It is too tender, too small. It isn\u2019t hugely complicated. Everyone knows that Pound was the archetypal impossible modernist, austere and difficult. Yet here was a little poem, written on the back of an envelope, about flowers. It lacks, for better and for worse, the grandeur we expect.\u00a0<\/p>\n

It\u2019s a trickier poem than it looks, of course. There are two objects, and the poem insists we trade one for the other, bread for hyacinths. They do not rhyme, for the poem has only one rhyme: \u201cdole\u201d and \u201csoul.\u201d \u201cDole\u201d is an odd word, for it means both \u201cmoney\u201d and \u201cgrief.\u201d We still have this double in the homophones dollar<\/em>\u00a0and dolor<\/em>,\u00a0and the slight tangle is explained simply. \u201cDole\u201d is actually two words with different etymologies: one comes from the Old English, meaning \u201cportion\u201d or \u201cshare,\u201d while the other comes from Latin, and this means \u201csorrow.\u201d Two things become one; or one becomes two. The poem is halfway to an equation, and the exchange is carefully measured: in the figure \u201c2\u201d in the place of the word, in the mathematical symbol.<\/p>\n

The great paradox of Ezra Pound is that the message of his politics was so often contradicted by the forms in which he wrote. He spent World War II broadcasting fascist propaganda from Italy, and then the following decade as a patient at Saint Elizabeths Hospital for the insane in Washington, D.C. In the broadcasts, he spoke against the mixing of races and preached anti-Semitic hate, and yet the method of his poetry insists that ideas can and must be translated across cultures. He mixes African myth with classical Greek epic, ancient Chinese poetry and the American blues. These were\u00a0messages that got Pound into trouble: his idea that poets should be taken seriously, should be listened to on the topics of economics and politics and the running of the world. In this little poem, he offers a simple lesson: that the world of bread must have a place for hyacinths, too.<\/p>\n

We shouldn\u2019t take this spiritualism too seriously, however. You don\u2019t give away your loaves but trade one of them carefully, while the other is held back, perhaps for lunch, just as the things of this world are balanced with the next. Reading the poem again, I realize: now he has all the ingredients for a hyacinth sandwich.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Daniel Swift\u2019s book <\/em>The Bughouse: The Poetry, Politics and Madness of Ezra Pound will be published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux in November.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Hast thou 2 loaves of bread Sell one + with the dole Buy straightaway some hyacinths To feed thy soul. \u2014Ezra Pound I found this short poem by Ezra Pound as I was researching a book about Pound\u2019s years in Saint Elizabeths Hospital. It appears for the first time in my book\u00a0The Bughouse\u00a0and in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1246,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2157],"tags":[3115,30559,30561,14990,30560,29199],"class_list":["post-115539","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-on-poetry","tag-ezra-pound","tag-hyacinths","tag-schloss-brunnenburg","tag-second-world-war","tag-st-elizabeths-hospital","tag-tyrol"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nOn Finding a Lost Ezra Pound Poem in a Castle<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Daniel Swift stumbled across a previously unpublished poem by Ezra Pound in the Schloss Brunnenburg, where Pound lived late in his life.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" 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