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Eagle vs. Crows

Farasha Euker

The motor and the plane and the great war have gone over him, / And Lenin has lived and Jehovah died: while the mother-eagle / Hunts her same hills, crying the same beautiful and lonely cry and / is never tired; dreams the same dreams, / And hears at night the rock-slides rattle and thunder in the throats / of these living mountains.

Robinson Jeffers, “The Beaks of Eagles”
An eagle outside my window:
pure, beautiful, majestic,
seated alone atop a tree
at the top of the world.
But just as there can be
no peace in the world,
there is no peace for
the proud eagle,
who is disturbed
by a frightful flock of crows.
The provoked eagle
flies up and down,
and tries many
evasive maneuvers
without lowering itself
to attack,
then comes the awful sound—
from the eagle
as it is attacked,
which wrenches one’s
heart, blood, bones, soul.
On and on it goes,
until the crows tire,
and the eagle resumes its place
on top of the spruce,
on top of the world.
Why must the lower
always attack the higher?
Humans replace truth, beauty, and goodness
with lies, ugliness, and evil.
We think we are like the eagle,
but even the beetle was sacred
to the ancient Egyptians,
whereas we are now
nothing but producers of filth,
infinitely lower than that which
the beetle rolls.
I challenge you
to name one change,
one discovery,
one revolution,
one innovation,
that made things better,
not worse.
In this time,
when most men
are soulless, mindless, heartless
who would evolve immensely
by becoming monkeys again,
it is time for us free folk
to rise, rise, rise.
We must stop being
wolves in poodle cages;
we must break free,
then howl, howl, howl
with our hearts.
We must break free
from the collars and chains
that bind us,
namely work—
for work, even willing work
is none other than slavery—
and society, and religions—
not Religion—
and unleash a new
dawn, a new savagery
upon the world.
The pampered poodle
have wreaked enough horrors;
their time is up.
Let the new people
be like the eagle
and the wolf
and be done with the crows.
Let all that we have built
crumble to dust,
so that future generations
of woman and man
may howl at the moon,
run naked through the
be kin to the proud eagle,
and never, never
know the evil, vile, terrible
cursed machine.