The eagle

a poem by Krzeslawa T. Skrzypczynska, Poland - poetry writer, author, poet

Too young for oveloads,
is he too fearful?
Too proud for the life indurations,
is he too amorous?

Too fast, too light, too boldly,
he touches almost someone's harm,
constantly changing the ideas.
Is he falling into someone's evil vision?

The stroking is floating the eagle.
The word is floating the eagle.
He pierces the passing, by the eyes,
it seems to him, it is next to him.

And this can turn out to be
the only some kind of tinsel,
that will bring the same thing,
the life, which will also pass.

But, just, belated sorrow
it will nothing refund anything again.
It will jerk those opressed,
they will throw him away from the hearts of the wounded.

The solitude of the eagle is known,
a flight is similar to high stars.
However, do not better as for doves
to what's closer and more often, just next to?

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