I went out on an April morning All alone, for my heart was high, I was a child of the shining meadow, I was a sister of the sky.

There in the windy flood of morning Longing lifted its weight from me, Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering, Swept as a sea-bird out to sea.

From outside my house, only the faint distant sound of gentle breezes wandering through bamboo leaves in the long evening silence.

Late evening finally comes: I unlatch the door and quietly await the one who greets me in my dreams

I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed. Inaction, no falsifying dream Between my hooked head and hooked feet: Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.

The convenience of the high trees! The air's buoyancy and the sun's ray Are of advantage to me; And the earth's face upward for my inspection.

My feet are locked upon the rough bark. It took the whole of Creation To produce my foot, my each feather: Now I hold Creation in my foot

Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly - I kill where I please because it is all mine. There is no sophistry in my body: My manners are tearing off heads -

The allotment of death. For the one path of my flight is direct Through the bones of the living. No arguments assert my right:

The sun is behind me. Nothing has changed since I began. My eye has permitted no change. I am going to keep things like this