The Bard's Something, edit 1: Achebe, kolemath

[RiverNotch]

It is no lamb but lambs that draw the tiger,
say foolish ewe or schizophrenic ram --
the burning beast whose fearful symmetry
strikes awful dread even in pastors' eyes
spots then stalks then pounces on those alone
and by his sounds of feasting draws the flock
toward his fellow cats. Now caution reaps
murder like courage to speak, light to see,
how times have changed: as lions wait for death
and falcons gyre, tigers gather in packs
and wethers peel the poets from the flock,
guessing them better eucharist than eyes.
When shall God's fear revive the slouching pride,
true art return and mend a nation's mind?

The Bard's Warning


It is no lamb but lambs that draw the cat
whose fearful symmetry strikes awful dread
even in our Lord's eyes -- as if your course,
aloof and distant from the flock, should grant
security. It is no lamb -- the tiger
spots then stalks then pounces on those alone
and by his sounds of feasting draws the flock
toward his fellow hunters. Times have changed:
as lions wait for death and falcons gyre,
tigers gather in flocks and lambs divide.
When shall God's fear revive the slouching pride?
When shall new verse thus well-considered mend
a nation's mind -- and ill-considered, lead
to overthrow of slaughter, haste, and greed?