The eagles slept
The eagles slept,
The oak boughs drowsed.
Dark night is ripped
By shrieks of screech-owls.
The eagles slept,
But not sly fate.
Far flames crept
Till fire was in spate.
The forest burnt, rapid
As autumn straw.
The eagles slept,
Dreaming of war.
Like strings of red beads,
Moss paths are swept.
The fires course leads
Where tired eagles slept.
The eagles awake.
Fire! they shriek, shout.
Fire! the forests ache-
Fire! rings all about.
The eagles are on fire,
Their wings are singed.
They cannot fly far
With burning wings.
Though longing to fly,
They fell and kept watch.
At the Aragvi, tired
Wings were drooped and scorched.
I saw a wounded eagle,
Attacked by crows and ravens.
The wretch, now feeble,
Struggled to stand in vain
1916