INVISIBLE EYES Poem by Dane Zajc

Lions are rising.
Rested lions rise in tall grass.
They plant their heavy paws upon the ground:
the lions roar into the evening.

The moon, the night's bright eye,
watches through treetops.
Soft bellies slither on the ground.
Looking for the eyes.
For the green eyes among trees.
For the yellow eyes in grass.
For the red eyes in reeds.

Watch your step.
Watch your legs.

The lions crawl among tree trunks.
The lions are ready to leap.
The arches of their backs shiver
with anticipation.

Watch your steps.
The invisible eyes are locating
the spot for hungry teeth on you.
The invisible teeth will snatch
at your calves.

The lions lunge at gazelles.
They leap like roaring balls of hunger.
They slaughter.
The moon, the night's bright eye, sails across the sky.
The soft bodies crawl on the ground.

Watch your steps.
Watch your arms.
The morning will appear over the mountain,
a white
sated animal.
The red sun will search,
search for a long time your bones,
scattered in the tall grass.

The lions roar into the night.
How we slaughtered the sheepish gazelles!
How we slaughtered the shuddering gazelles!
How we tore their flesh apart,
their soft flesh on the black table-cloth of the night.

Thirsty lions drink the moonlight.

Watch your arms.
The sun will find your bones,
scattered in the tall grass.