Classic Poem

Now the summer was rich on the land,
And the fledgelings were testing their wings for flight:
The milk came thick with cream, and the flies swarmed about the lashing tail …

It was a time of gardens, and sleep in hot noon,
And mad throbbing nights …

Now the spider killed her mate and dined on him,
Now in the jungle the hunters slew,
Now there was war among men …

And the youth, in the quick flush of a summer morning,
Came out upon great waters, smooth in the sun …

And he saw canoes heavy with bronzed warriors,
Their paddles dipped, rippled and flashed: the drip fell:
They were moving toward the shore.

And the promise of heat heated his blood,
And he said:
“I am a hunter from the hills:
I came from my mother's house to battle and conquer …
I am still young.”

So he waited, exultant, for the coming of the fighters.