Poyetry

Friday, September 14, 2007

Windhover, Translation 2: Bird of my Heart

Translation 2: Sense, not patterns
Bird of my Heart


Flesh, feathers, air
Courage and grace,
Spinning, swooping,
Skyhawk.

If such beauty,
Speed and power
Gracefilled, fold,
Giving in to Death,

What perilous light!
What glorious shine!
Flash out, flash out again.

Slow plodding, quotidian slog
Polish our souls,
Bright shining inside the ashes.

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