While flying back from the Aspen conference in Italy I came down with my second cold in a month. In honor of that, and of this generally dark season, I offer another occasional poem, this one by Ezra Pound.
Winter is icumen in, Lhude sing Goddamm, Raineth drop and staineth slop, And how the wind doth ramm! Sing: Goddamm. Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us, An ague hath my ham. Freezeth river, turneth liver, Damm you; Sing: Goddamm. (more…)