Beyond the great valley an odd instinctive rising <br />Begins to possess the ground, the flatness gathers <br /> to little humps and <br />barrows, low aimless ridges, <br />A sudden violence of rock crowns them. The crowded <br /> orchards end, they <br />have come to a stone knife; <br />The farms are finished; the sudden foot of the <br /> slerra. Hill over hill, <br />snow-ridge beyond mountain gather <br />The blue air of their height about them. <br /> <br /> Here at the foot of the pass <br />The fierce clans of the mountain you'd think for <br /> thousands of years, <br />Men with harsh mouths and eyes like the eagles' hunger, <br />Have gathered among these rocks at the dead hour <br />Of the morning star and the stars waning <br />To raid the plain and at moonrise returning driven <br />Their scared booty to the highlands, the tossing horns <br />And glazed eyes in the light of torches. The men have <br /> looked back <br />Standing above these rock-heads to bark laughter <br />At the burning granaries and the farms and the town <br />That sow the dark flat land with terrible rubies... <br /> lighting the dead... <br /> It is not true: from this land <br />The curse was lifted; the highlands have kept peace <br /> with the valleys; no <br />blood in the sod; there is no old sword <br />Keeping grim rust, no primal sorrow. The people are <br /> all one people, their <br />homes never knew harrying; <br />The tribes before them were acorn-eaters, harmless <br /> as deer. Oh, fortunate <br />earth; you must find someone <br />To make you bitter music; how else will you take bonds <br /> of the future, <br />against the wolf in men's hearts? <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Submitted by Holt<br /><br />Robinson Jeffers<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ascent-to-the-sierras/
