WILD-FOWL 



How oft against the sunset sky or moon 

 I watched that moving zig-zag of spread wings 

 In unforgotten autumns gone too soon, 

 In unforgotten springs! 



Creatures of desolation! Far they fly 

 Above all lands bound by the curling foam. 

 In misty fens, wild moors, and trackless sky 

 These wild things have their home. 



They know the tundra of Siberian coasts 

 And tropic marshes by the Indian seas. 



They know the clouds and nights, and starry hosts 

 From Crux to Pleiades. 



Dark flying rune against the western glow, 

 It tells the sweep and loneliness of things, 

 Symbol of autumns vanished long ago, 

 Symbol of coming springs. 



Pai Ta-shun 



