Ité
Ezra Pound
Go, my songs, seek your praise from the young and from the intolerant, Move among the lovers of perfection alone. Seek ever to stand in the hard Sophoclean light And take you wounds from it gladly.
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Go, my songs, seek your praise from the young and from the intolerant, Move among the lovers of perfection alone. Seek ever to stand in the hard Sophoclean light And take you wounds from it gladly.
