Luyện nghe bài hát California Saga / The Beaks of Eagles

An nest on the head of an old redwood on one of the
ridges
Above Ventana Creek, that jagged country nothing but a fallen
will ever plow: no horseman
Will ever ride there, no hunter cross this but the winged ones, no
one steal the eggs from this fortress.
The she-eagle is old, her was shot long ago, she is now mated
a son of hers.
When lightning blasted her nest she built it again on the tree, in
the splinters of the bolt.

In a broken an old man takes his time about dyin'
And just at the back a flowerbed that he'll lie in
In new light a man might venture
A horse stage from Monterey.

The she-eagle is older I: she was here when the fires of eighty-five
on these ridges,
She was fledged and dared not hunt ahead of them, but ate scorched
meat.
The has changed in her time; humanity has multiplied,
But not here; men's hopes and thoughts and customs changed, their
powers are enlarged, their powers and their follies have fantastic.

Spilled down the hill a wagon load of bodies lay scattered,
at sea.
ore is all that mattered.
They took it the hills right through the cargo doors
How many ships have come and gone at Thurso's landing