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Hawk Roosting

分类: 英语诗歌 
I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed.

    Inaction, no falsifying dream

    Between my hooked head and hooked feet:

    Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.

    The convenience of the high trees!

    The air's buoyancy and the sun's ray

    Are of advantage to me;

    And the earth's face upward for my inspection.

    My feet are locked upon the rough bark.

    It took the whole of Creation

    To produce my foot, my each feather:

    Now I hold Creation in my foot

    Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly -

    I kill where I please because it is all mine.

    There is no sophistry in my body:

    My manners are tearing off heads -

    The allotment of death.

    For the one path of my flight is direct

    Through the bones of the living.

    No arguments assert my right:

    The sun is behind me.

    Nothing has changed since I began.

    My eye has permitted no change.

    I am going to keep things like this.

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