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Thanks to a residency at EcoHealth, my verse these days finds inspiration in the specter of future pandemics; for my dissertation at LMU M√ľnchen, where I tutor and edit circulars on poetics and composition, I'm anatomizing the prosody of Robinson's sonnets—I also teach at MVHS and lead the Amerikahaus Literary Circle.



by Guido Calvacanti,
translated by Ezra Pound

I saw the eyes, where Amor took his place 
When love's might bound me with the fear thereof, 
Look out at me as they were weary of love. 
I say: The heart rent him as he looked on this, 
And were't not that my Lady lit her grace, 
Smiling upon me with her eyes grown glad, 
Then were my speech so dolorously clad 
That Love should mourn amid his victories. 

The instant that she deigned to bend her eyes 
Toward me, a spirit from high heaven rode 
And chose my thought the place of his abode 
With such deep parlance of love's verities 
That all Love's powers did my sight accost 
As though I'd won unto his heart's mid-most. 

Note:  A recitation can be heard here.

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