To A Taube

VE the valley, rich and fair,

On flashing pinions, glittering, gay,

You hover in the upper air,

A bird of prey.

Snarling across the empty blue You curve and skim, you dip and soar,

A dove in flight and shape and hue The dove of war.

Above the soldier and the slain,

An armoured bird, you hang on high,

Directed by a human brain,

A human eye.

A thirsty hunter out for blood Drinking adventure to the dregs Where hidden camps the country stud You drop your eggs.

Thus, man, who reasons and invents,

Has inconsistently designed The conquest of the elements To kill his kind.