had
had enough
of honey
jesses loosed,
no raptor
to witness
the bloodying
of that Asturian forest's floor
she
flew
back
to find
the crows at harvest,
their work
near to completion
the hunting party
salvaged what remained
for a king's burial...
offspring shed their legacies... scattered
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
excessive levitas...curtailed by ursine gravitas....and yet, a merry wake...'])