faun

• bir sylvia plath şiiri:
  
  haunched like a faun, he hooed
  from grove of moon-glint and fen-frost
  until all owls in the twigged forest
  flapped black to look and brood
  on the call this man made.
  
  no sound but a drunken coot
  lurching home along river bank.
  stars hung water-sunk, so a rank
  of double star-eyes lit
  boughs where those owls sat.
  
  an arena of yellow eyes
  watched the changing shape he cut,
  saw hoof harden from foot, saw sprout
  goat-horns. marked how god rose
  and galloped woodward in that guise.