Close eyes. Stay still and you can hear
Rising of sun, ferocious cries
Speaking of birth about your ear,
An eloquence of skies.
Winter perhaps but this is spring
Wrung from cold earth. Harsh life asserts
Its pressure on the air, will sing
Untill the singing hurts.
Open your eyes. The light is birds.
They bear the sun and clip it round.
Almost they break out into words
In this impulse of sound.
伊丽莎白•詹宁斯(Elizabeth Jennings,1926-2001),英国当代著名女诗人