Blue mountains to the north of the walls,
White river winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.
Mind like a floating wide cloud,
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance.
Notice the attention to physical details, the clear, sober statement of fact and the lack of sentimentalism. Pound much admired this sort of anti-romanticism and thought that western poetry could be brought into the modern realm by imitating it, starting a second sort of renaissance. 
