النص الأدبي الثالث المقطع-  2-

At earliest dawn on the morrow the birds were chirping blithe,
as though they had drunken draughts of riot in fiery juice;
And at even the drowned beasts lay where the torrent had borne them , dead,
high up in the valley sides , likr earth -stained roots of squills

This translation is by Desmond O'Grady from Irland. In this translation
O'Grady has igoned the original metre and rhyme. This translation is written in free verse. His intention is for the reader to hear poetry with its original pauses and stressed words.

Look!
Crowning that stormcloud.
Lightning! It lfashes like a bowman's hand
flicks arrows from his quiver.
A brilliant blaze of light
like that of the lone hermit when he splashes
oil on the twisted wick of his nightlamp.

Come morning
it was the songbirds of the valley
had drunk rich spiced drink,
they winged and warbled so .
And the wildlife,
had drowned in the farthest reaches of the flood,
looked like pulled up bulbs of wild onion.