Ezra Pound - Francesca

...You came in out of the night
and there were flowers in your hands,
now you will come out of a confusion of people,
out of a turmoil of speech about you.
I who have seen you amis the primal things
was angry when they spoke your name
in ordinary places.
I would that the cool waves might flow over my mind,
and that the world should dry as a dead leaf,
or as a dandelion seed-pod and be swept away,
so that I might find you again,
alone...