Sub Mare in  General   

It is, and is not, I am sane enough,
Since you have come this place has hovered round me,
This fabrication built of autumn roses,
Then there's a goldish colour, different.

And one gropes in these things as delicate
Algæ reach up and out, beneath
Pale slow green surgings of the underwave,
'Mid these things older than the names they have,
These things that are familiears of the god.

By Ezra Pound

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Other poems by Ezra Pound:

• A Girl
• A Pact
• A Virginal
• Alba
• An Immorality
• And the days are not full enough
• Ballad for Gloom
• Before Sleep
• Cantico del Sole
• Canto I
• Canto XIII
• Canto XLIX
• Cino
• Dance Figure
• Envoi
• Epilogue
• Ezra on the Strike
• Fan-Piece, For Her Imperial Lord
• Francesca
• from "Hugh Selwyn Mauberly"
• Further Instructions
• Grace Before Song
• Historion
• Hugh Selwyn Mauberly (Part I)
• In A Station Of The Metro
• In Tempore Senectutis
• In the Old Age of the Soul
• Invern
• Ione, Dead the Long Year
• Ité
• La Regina Avrillouse
• Lament of the Frontier Guard
• Masks
• Medallion
• Meditatio
• Nicotine
• Notes for Canto CXX
• Quies
• Salutation
• Sestina: Altaforte
• Silet
• Song
• Song in the Manner of Housman
• Song of the Bowmen of Shu
• Statement of Being
• Sub Mare
• Taking Leave of a Friend
• Tame Cat
• The Bath-Tub
• The Encounter
• The Fault of It
• The Garden
• The Garret
• The Lake Isle
• The Logical Conclusion
• The Needle
• The Plunge
• The Return
• The Seafarer
• The Seeing Eye
• The Summons
• The Tree
• These Fought in Any Case
• Villanelle: The Psychological Hour
• Villonaud for This Yule