Meadow gentle loosen
Green areas where they
Hear noise of the villages from
Then silence, anyway
A scary trunk on a hill
More than an opaque curse
Hangs from every tree
Unspoken fear of a prayer
The soft murmur of the water
Avoiding with fear a forest
Over which falls an ax
Cutting invisible threads
Migrating birds come and go
Over these lying horizons,
The shores of an ancient Corinth
And the poisoned gift of a Greek
(translated from romanian)
ion untaru
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/migrating-birds/
