THEN, suddenly, I was aware indeed <br />Of what he said, and was revolving it: <br />How, in the night, crows often take to wing, <br />Rising from off the tree-tops in Drumbarr, <br />And flying on: I pictured what he told. <br /> <br />The crows that shake the night-damp off their wings <br />Upon the stones out yonder in the fields, <br />The first live things that we see in the mornings; <br />The crows that march across the fields, that sit <br />Upon the ash-trees' branches, that fly home <br />And crowd the elm-tops over in Drumbarr; <br />The crows we look on at all hours of light, <br />Growing, and full, and going these black beings have <br />Another lifetime! <br /> <br />Crows flying in the dark <br />Blackness in darkness flying; beings unseen <br />Except by eyes that are like to their own <br />Trespassers' eyes! <br /> <br />And you, old man, with eyes so quick and sharp, <br />Who've told me of the crows, my fosterer; <br />And you, old woman, upon whose lap I've lain <br />When I was taken from my mother's lap; <br />And you, young girl, with looks that have come down <br />From forefathers, my kin ye have another life <br />I've glimpsed it, I becoming trespasser- <br />Blackness in darkness flying like the crows!<br /><br />Padraic Colum<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crows-8/
