Weird Tales/Volume 36/Issue 2/The Owls

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The Owls

(From the French of Charles P. Baudelaire)

Translated by


In shelter of the vaulted yews,
Like alien gods who shun the world,
The flown owls wait with feathers furled;
Darting red eyes, they dream and muse.

In rows unmoving they remain
Till the sad hour that they remember,
When, treading down the sun's last ember,
The towering night resumes its reign.

Their attitude will teach the seer
How wise and needful is the fear
Of movement and of travailment;

For shadow-drunken wanderers bear
On all their ways the chastisement
Of having wished to wend elsewhere.

Black and white illustration of two owls sitting on a branch, looking at the readers, with a full moon over a mesa in the background.