[Jaysun]

That's a Poundian turn of phrase.

You're on the money. From "Sestina: Altaforte", one of my favorites:

The man who fears war and squats opposing
My words for stour, hath no blood of crimson
But is fit only to rot in womanish peace
Far from where worth's won and the swords clash
For the death of such sluts I go rejoicing;
Yea, I fill all the air with my music.

[wideawake]

"Cosi s'osserva in me lo contrapasso."