I. CONDORS FLYING <br />WE watched the Condors winging towards the Moon, <br />A Moon that glimmered in the blue daylight; <br />Around us were the Andes, and beyond <br />Andes, the Ocean, empty like the Moon. <br />I heard you speak in Atahualpa's tongue: <br />Then distances grew present; all the range <br />Of Condors' wings between my thought, your thought: <br />As though they had transcended need for wings, <br />We watched the Condors winging towards the Moon. <br /> <br />II. CONDORS IN THE JARDIN DES PLANTES <br />To sink into the depths we need take weights- <br />Put on such armour as our divers use; <br />To rise above the fathomed we must bear <br />Weights, and you are weighted for emprise <br />Of rising to where flows the thinnest air, <br />And here beneath our towers you roost and run, <br />And trail your wings. I think I know your pain, <br />Your pain and weariness! <br />Like divers are ye that perpetually, <br />Plated in metal, make circuit about <br />Where some sidereal gesture has withdrawn <br />The tides, the main- <br />Condors with shuttered, iron-heavy wings!<br /><br />Padraic Colum<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/condors/
