Herodotus's Great Birds

The great birds come

on air currents
carried in from beyond the world

the people know.

Beaks and talons laden

with rolled brown sticks,
they flock to the cliffs that rise
on the long side

of the river’s bend
packing their nests

with sweet-smelling cinnamon.

The people stockpile hunks of flesh

from dead horses, oxen and ass,
and wait for the first full moon

that follows the fledglings' flight song.

flesh of trees, fledglings see
CAWri caw! CAWricaw! Home.

On the river, opposite the nests,

the people pile all animals amassed

since the spring’s first crescent moon.

The great birds dive into the meat feet first.

Grasping greasy chunks,
they push down on the air
with their wings and rise to their nests
to deposit pieces of beast.

Rising and falling
they fill their nests

until the mud breaks away
from the gray rock wall

sending the nests
sailing to the river below.

The great birds settle
into a frenzied feast
of flesh left on shore,

as the people stretch a hand-knotted net

against cold downstream currents

to collect the floating gift the great birds bring,

coveting the moment they will sip rich wine

through its sweet rolled flesh.