Shiva

Robinson Jeffers

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There is a hawk that is picking the birds out of our sky,
She killed the pigeons of peace and security,
She has taken honesty and confidence from nations and men,
She is hunting the lonely heron of liberty.
She loads the arts with nonsense, she is very cunning
Science with dreams and the state with powers to catch them at last.
Nothing will escape her at last, flying nor running.
This is the hawk that picks out the star's eyes.
This is the only hunter that will ever catch the wild swan;
The prey she will take last is the wild white swan of the beauty of things.
Then she will be alone, pure destruction, achieved and supreme,
Empty darkness under the death-tent wings.
She will build a nest of the swan's bones and hatch a new brood,
Hang new heavens with new birds, all be renewed.

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Comments1
  • ourgalsal

    I remember reading this poem when I was younger, and it really left a lasting impression on me. It's so full of vivid imagery and intense emotion. The hawk symbolizes something destructive and powerful, taking away peace, honesty, and beauty from the world. The ending lines suggest that there might be a chance for renewal, but only after everything has been destroyed. It's haunting and thought-provoking.