Still, Citizen Sparrow (vers 1-3), by Richard Wilbur (f. 1921)
(From Ceremony and other poems. Boston : Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 1965.)
Still, citizen sparrow, this vulture which you call
Unnatural, let him but lumber again to air
Over the rotten office, let him bear
The carrion ballast up, and at the tall
Tip of the sky lie cruising. Then you’ll see
That no more beautiful bird is in heaven’s height,
No wider more placid wings, no watchfuller flight;
He shoulders nature there, the frightfully free,
The naked-headed one. Pardon him, you
Who dart in the orchard aisles, for it is he
Devours death, mocks mutability,
Has heart to make an end, keeps nature new.
*
I Sydamerika har kondoren mytologisk status och är nationalsymbol i flera av kontinentens länder. Så här skrev den chilenske poeten Pablo Neruda om fågeln.
Kondoren, av Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)
Jag är kondoren, jag flyger
ovanför dig där du går
och plötsligt, i en virvel
av vind, fjädrar, klor,
slår jag ner dig och lyfter dig
högt i en visslande cyklon
med orkanartad kyla.
Och till mitt torn av snö,
till mitt svarta näste
för jag dig och ensam lever du
och höljer dina fjädrar
och flyger över världen,
orörlig i höjden.
Kondorhona, låt oss störta ner
på detta röda byte,
låt oss klösa livet
som pulserande passerar
och tillsammans kasta oss ut
i vår vilda flykt
*
Rovfågeldikterna, del 1, avslutas med fiskgjusen. Den kallas Osprey på engelska.
Osprey, by Philip Salom (f. 1950)
(From The Projectionist. Fremantle : Fremantle Arts Centre Press, 1983.)
Day is that position where the river
meets the sea
and runs its delta.
So find him
there, rising, beating through
luff and buffet of air.
A flung thing, holding its own,
lone osprey, hunting down
beneath the driving surface.
But where at night? What in each
crystal sphere does he see
when the hood is on his eyes?
The space he rests in
the fierce unfierce
the sea?
meets the sea
and runs its delta.
So find him
there, rising, beating through
luff and buffet of air.
A flung thing, holding its own,
lone osprey, hunting down
beneath the driving surface.
But where at night? What in each
crystal sphere does he see
when the hood is on his eyes?
The space he rests in
the fierce unfierce
the sea?
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