Make-Falcon

(Frederick II of Hohenstaufen, The Art of Falconry)

 

 

1.

 

Of the oil gland . . . Of the down . . .

               Of the numbers and arrangement

of feathers in the wing . . . I have seen

               on the plains of Apulia

 

how the birds in earliest spring were weak

               and scarcely able to fly.

Of the avian nostrils and mandibles . . . Of

               the regular sequence of molt . . .

 

Aristotle, apt to credit hearsay where

               experiment alone

can be relied upon, was wrong about

               the migrant column. Concerning

 

the methods of capture . . . the jesses . . .

               The swivel, the hood, the falcon’s bell . . .

 

 

2.

 

The finest of them—here I mean

               for swiftness, strength,

 

audacity and stamina—are brooded

               on the Hyperborean cliffs (an island

chiefly made of ice). And I

               am told but have not ascertained

 

the farther from the sea they nest,

               the nobler will be the offspring.

 

 

3.

 

Triangular needles are not to be used.

               The room

 

to be darkened, the bird

               held close in the hands of the assistant,

linen thread. By no means pierce

               the membrana nictitans, lying between

 

the eyeball and the outermost

               tissue, nor place the suture, lest it tear,

too near the edge. To seel,

               from cilium, lower lid,

 

which makes her more compliant to the falconer’s

               will but also (I have

seen this in the lesser birds as well) more bold

               in flight. The senses

 

to be trained in isolation: taste,

               then touch, then hearing (so

the bars of a song she will evermore link to

               food), and then the sight restored,

 

in order that the falcon may

               be partly weaned or disengaged from that

which comes by nature.

               The falconer’s purse or

 

carneria, owing

               to the meat it holds . . .

The carrier’s arm . . . the gauntlet . . . the horse . . .

               They greatly dislike the human face.

 

 

4.

 

If you ask why the train is made of a hare,

               you must know no other flight

more resembles

               the flight at a crane than that

 

the falcon learns in pursuit of a hare

               nor is more beautiful.

Make-falcon: meaning

               the one who is willing

 

to fly in a cast with another less

               expert (the seasons

best suited . . . the weather . . . the hours . . . )

               and by example teach.

 

 

5.

 

The removal of dogs, which praise

               will better effect than will the harshest

threats, from the prey. Their reward.

               You must open

 

the breast and extract the organ that moves

               by itself, which is to say, the heart,

and let the falcon feed.

               The sultan

 

has sent me a fine machine combining

               the motions of sun and moon,

and Giacomo makes a poem of fourteen

               lines. The music is very good,

 

I think. (Of those who refuse to come to the lure . . . Of

               shirkers . . . Of bating . . . )

But give me the falcon for art.