The Garden I In the heart of the city, Among the pots and the joints Of the weary world, I hear wild flowers sing But never see them grow.

II What is the use of seeing? The blue in the sky is the void, The unseen movement of trees Against the bright blue. Like thought, unbroken motion, Between voice and silence, Like a song in praise, All the love I have lost, In the air between the trees.

• Ezra Pound