Читать книгу Psalm Sonnets - Alexandra Glynn - Страница 5

When birds are murdered I begin to cry.

When lions tear at jackals it seems right.

But songbirds—what did they do? So when I

Behold one slaughtered, life is not as bright—

It seems as if a great debt must be paid,

That something big is owed now that the breast

From which came songs to God is gravely laid

Silent in earth. But from what treasure chest

Are coins of gold enough that they would end

An obligation sense such as I know

Because the bird I thought of as my friend

Is slain and drips red droplets on the snow?

A murdered bird is like a murdered soul—

Like diamonds one has smeared with pitch and coal.