To A Taube

ABOVE 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.