Die, wild country, like the eaglehawk
dangerous till the last breath’s gone,
clawing and striking. Die
cursing your captor through a raging eye.
Die like the tigersnake
that hisses such pure hatred from its pain
as fills the killer’s dreams
with fear like suicide’s invading stain.
Die like the soldier-ant
mindless and faithful to your million years.
Though we corrupt you with our torturing mind,
stay obstinate; stay blind.
For we are conquerors and self-poisoners
more than scorpion or snake
and dying of the venom that we make
even while you die of us.
I praise the scoring drought, the flying dust,
the drying creek, the furious animal,
that the oppose us still;
that we are ruined by the thing we kill.