The Eagle over the Strait

That's an eagle! On the edge of the cliff

Over the temple at the top of the mountain

Still, like a black dot, motionless

But it did hover

Only it was moving incredibly slowly

imperceptible to the naked eye, except for an old man anemone

trembling in the wind. That unreachable height

The eagle's eyes are like electronic police

Scanning the tumbling sea and the mountains

No fish leaping out of the water, no rabbit in the mountain, escapes the surveillance

Those sharp claws are like iron anchors that grip the sky with a firm grip

When it loosens its grip when it swoops down

This mountain, this island, will also collapse, rumbling into the strait