Ezra Pound

Old friends the most.
W. B. Y.

I
To one, on returning certain years after.

YOU wore the same quite correct clothing,

You took no pleasure at all in my triumphs,

You had the same old air of condescension

Mingled with a curious fear

That I, myself, might have enjoyed them.

Te voila, man Bourrienne, you also shall be immortal.

II
To another.

And we say good-bye to you also,

For you seem never to have discovered

That your relationship is wholly parasitic;

Yet to our feasts you bring neither

Wit, nor good spirits, nor the pleasing attitudes

Of discipleship.

III

But you, bos amic, we keep on,

For to you we owe a real debt:

In spite of your obvious flaws,

You once discovered a moderate chop-house.

IV
Iste fuit vir incultus,
Deo laus, quod est sepultus,
Vermes habent eius vultum—
A-a-a-a—A-men.
Ego autem jovialis
Gaudebo in contubernalis
Cum jocunda femina.

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