The light became her grace and dwelt among <br />Blind eyes and shadows that are formed as men; <br />Lo, how the light doth melt us into song: <br /> <br />The broken sunlight for a healm she beareth <br />Who hath my heart in jurisdiction. <br />In wild-wood never fawn nor fallow fareth <br />So silent light; no gossamer is spun <br />So delicate as she is, when the sun <br />Drives the clear emeralds from the bended grasses <br />Lest they should parch too swiftly, where she passes.<br /><br />Ezra Pound<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ballatetta/
