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Tu Whit Tu Whoo

Wednesday, 12 January 2011 / Published in Poetry / 1,864 views

Giribaradhari das:

Pale light. Moonlight.
Perched high up in the trees.
My feathers hardly moving.
The ground begins to freeze.

There it moves ! Near the house !
Darting along the ground !
Here I come, little mouse.
My feathers make no sound.

I float, I glide, I swoop, I snatch.
My talons sharp and strong.
For I’ve been watching you, little mouse.
All night long.

As I prepare to eat your heart,
I think of lives gone past.
I’ve lived so many lives.
And this is not my last.

Oh little mouse, you squeak and squirm,
You try with all your might,
But soon to you Death will come,
So it’s useless now to fight.

Death comes to us all,
And tonight you were too slow.
Your soul will leave your body soon,
So please prepare to go.

Oh what a curse of nature !
We are in this body bound,
You, with your squeaking voice,
And me, with this hooting sound.

Once more, I promise to myself,
As I eat this mouse with shame,
I will not waste my next human form,
And I will, I will chant the Holy Name

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