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Heaven placed the
birds above,
Saying: "Sing, be free, and love!"
But man
landed on the ground--
Like a slave, to darkness bound.
He
hears tweets, but not the words
That at dawn sing the wise birds,
Which
know more of his affairs
Than he knows of his own cares.
Yet as
suits a graduate fool,
He believes he's Cosmos' jewel
As his
wounds he plans to suture,
Not right now, but in the future.
"That
hereafter's a delusion,"
Sing the birds, "yet an illusion
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That
affects the human head--
Makes him live as if he's dead!
Then
sometimes, as a contrast,
He would plunge into the past:
Of same
ill, another side,
Like the motions of the tide ...
What
occurred, and will take place
Are two eyes in the same face:
Days to
come, and the gone days,
Those eyes join in single gaze.
'All is
present all the time!'
Nothing else reveals this rhyme."
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Sing the birds
that once the gods,
With most mortals felt at odds:
"They're a plague we must
reduce:
Both their numbers, and abuse!
Simpler
time and simpler place
Shall succeed this hateful race!"
To
attain this worthy aim,
They renounced to use a flame,
Earth,
or wind, or heavy rain,
But instead chose the same bane:
"Let
them fall in their own traps,
Let their wacky world collapse,
And
just let this gory sore
Kill itself through bloody war!"
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From an
egg a girl was hatched,
Of a beauty never matched,
To
become prize of Discord,
And dark mistress of the sword.
She was
Heaven's bright creation,
A delight for sane vocation.
But
some men turned the fair girl,
By an oath, into a whirl.
And
thereby they built the chains
That enslaved their feeble brains.
Then
they claimed that the cruel war
Had been caused by her--"a whore."
But
divine was Helen's smile;
They were vile. She was worthwhile.
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