Ezra Pound - Tenzone lyrics

Will people accept them? (i.e. these songs). As a timorous wench from a centaur (or a centurion), Already they flee, howling in terror. Will they be touched with the truth? Their virgin stupidity is untemptable. I beg you, my friendly critics, Do not set about to procure me an audience. I mate with my free kind upon the crags; the hidden recesses Have heard the echo of my heels, in the cool light, in the darkness