The Low Sky Poem by Robinson Jeffers
The Low Sky
No vulture is here, hardly a hawk,
Could long wings or great eyes fly
Under this low-lidded soft sky?
On the wide heather the curlew's whistle
Dies of its echo, it has no room
Under the low lid of this tomb.
But one to whom mind and imagination
Sometimes used to seem burdensome
Is glad to lie down awhile in the tomb.
Among stones and quietness
The mind dissolves without a sound,
The flesh drops into the ground.
No vulture is here, hardly a hawk, Could long wings or great eyes fly Under this low-lidded soft sky? - ITALIAN: Non un avvoltoio, a mala pena un falco, Come potrebbero quelle lunghe ali o i grandi occhi volare Sotto questo morbido cielo mezzo addormentato?
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4/26/2024 9:25:50 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Splendid ink. Like to read again and again. 'Among stones and quietness The mind dissolves without a sound, The flesh drops into the ground.'.. is awesome. Loved it.