Some placid scene below you spied
Through steely eye that never cried
And all at once the peace that lay
Shattered by swooping affray;
A blackbird, innocent for so long
Naught in his mind but optimistic song
In a safe garden that afternoon
Not knowing the end was to be so soon;
Now the mornings will no longer ring
With the hopeful notes you used to sing
Now gathered up, in death-vice gripped
To be crushed and torn and spat and ripped;
Now, on a peak somewhere unseen
Sits love and survival, and all that's between
The breeze dares to ruffle a timid grass stalk
Beside the lonely sparrowhawk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem