One of Australia's finest poets, Judith Wright's success lay in her ability to examine sensitive Australian issues from new perspectives. "Bora Ring" is no exception. Written in 1946, the poem attempts to shed new light on colonial Australia's treatment of the Aborigine. Wright highlights the fear that drove colonial Australia to mass genocide by presenting conflicting views towards the fall of Aborigine culture. She shows that colonial Australia's true fear was not of the Aborigine, but of a universal primeval darkness inherent to human nature.

Wright's form helps divide the poem into two perspectives: Nature and Western civilization (as represented by colonial Australia). Though she uses syllabic verse, the repetition of certain ideas carries the majority of the poem's rhythm. Stanzas one and three parallel each other with their beginnings: "The song is gone" (1) and "The hunter is gone" (9). The remainder of the stanzas continue the parallel rhythm of idea, pursuing the impact of the loss of Aborigine culture from the perspective of Nature (which examines the "song") and Western civilization (which examines the "hunter"). Stanzas two and four also mirror each other, beginning "Only the" (5 & 13). In these stanzas, Wright again utilizes the different perspectives; this time to examine the legacy the Aborigine has left behind.

That the first two stanzas take the perspective of Nature is obvious from Wright's images. The naturally occurring "grass" (5) and "apple-gums" (6) of the second stanza give sharp contrast to the man-made "spear" (9) and "painted bodies" (10) of the third. As art attempting to reflect nature, the "song" and "dance" of line one also take on a natural quality in contrast with the human classifications of "hunter" (9) and "nomad feet" (12). In effect, the first two stanzas appear devoid of humanity. Even the Aborigine disappears, represented only by the products of its culture. Wright refers to his "song" (1), "ritual," "tribal story" (3), "past corroboree" (7), and "broken chant" (8), but never to the Aborigine himself. The result is a reader who feels as if he were one of the apple-gum trees, observing the results of a fallen Aborigine culture without regard to the human cause of it. Wright, then, turns Nature into a mourner which, sad to see that the "song is gone," can only "posture and mime a past corroboree" (7).

By making the Aborigine invisible in Nature's perspective, Wright accurately observes Aborigine religious tradition, which considers man as part of Nature. Such consideration makes these stanzas even more meaningful by turning Nature's perspective into that of the Aborigine. According to Aborigine belief, the world was created in a period called Dreamtime, during which the great spirits dreamed it into being. These spirits were supposedly eternal, and the Aborigines believed that tangible proof of their existence lay in sacred landmarks. In a similar manner, the "Bora Ring"—site of Aborigine initiation ceremonies—becomes the evidence of the Aborigine spirit. "Only the grass stands up/ to mark the dancing-ring," reads lines five and six. Though physically destroyed, the spirit of the Aborigine still exists in the "grass" and "apple-gums" that embody Nature.

Concerned that their rituals no longer are useful, Wright's nature-manifested Aborigines mourn the destruction of their religion and culture. Their dance is now "secret" (2), lost in the "alien tale" (4) of the colonialist. The idea of being "lost in an alien tale," foreshadows the last two stanzas, where the reader sees how Western civilization, unable to understand the Aborigine culture, transforms the Aborigine legacy into one of fear and evil. The Aborigine/Natural perspective leaves the reader with mixed, but innocent emotion. The reader must empathize with the Aborigine’s sorrow, but feels safe and somewhat reassured at the prospect of survival in Nature.

Wright quickly dispels the innocence of this emotion. The next two stanzas disturb the reader in their exposition of Western stereotypes. The "rider" of line thirteen can be that only of Western civilization, as it sweeps through the remnants of the civilization it destroyed. Western civilization's image of Aborigine Australia is radically different from Nature's. Not concerned that the "song is gone," it remembers the Aborigine only as "the hunter." It, too, sees the elements of Aborigine culture buried beneath the earth, but instead of mourning the dance buried "with the dancers in the earth" (2), Western civilization is relieved that "the spear/ is splintered underground" (9-10). Clearly, Western civilization is incapable of seeing anything but a frightening enemy in the Aborigine. The stereotype of an uncivilized culture with "painted bodies" and "nomad feet" (12) further emphasizes Western civilization's prejudices. It is unable to understand another culture by any merit other than its own Christian preconception of civilization.

The Aborigine's survival in Nature returns to haunt Western civilization in the fourth stanza. The "rider" senses the spirit of the Aborigine in "sightless shadows" and "unsaid words" (14). Again, it can remember only its fear of the Aborigine, which Wright defines as "the ancient curse/ . . . as old as Cain" (15-16). This fear can be interpreted in two ways. Examined from the perspective of the implied speaker, colonial Australia, there is an obvious association of the curse of Cain with the black skin of the Aborigine. The fear, then, is a consequence of the Christian stereotype of the black man as murderer. Yet, Cain might also represent colonial Australia, which murdered the Aborigine in cold blood. In this case, the "sightless shadows" are a haunting reminder of Australia's guilt and inevitable punishment in accordance to the "ancient curse" (15). In either case, the allusion to Cane brings to mind the wickedness and depravity of primeval man.

But Wright shows this evil does not lie in the Aborigine; rather, it is inherent in the Western culture that perceives it. Only in Christian tradition do the "painted bodies" conjure images of worshipping evil—in Aborigine tradition it was a from of worshipping God. The image of the "painted bodies" as an essence which the "world breathed" and "forgot" (11) helps define the source of the perceived evil. That the world breathed this essence in "a dream" recalls the Aborigine tradition of Dreamtime. The naturalness of the breathing process, especially in the sleep of his genesis, suggests the "painted bodies" were a part of humanity at its origin – an origin "as old as Cain". While the Aborigine connotation of "painted bodies" would indicate a divine origin for humanity, Wright emphasizes Western civilization's fear of a dark origin, epitomized in the myths of Cain and original sin. The Aborigine, far from being the source of this perceived evil, is only a mistaken symbol of the primitive evil inherent in the human soul. Colonial Australia sought to destroy its evil by destroying the Aborigine. Instead, it brought its own dark nature to light.

Clearly Wright favors Nature and the Aborigine's perception over that of Western civilization. She sees a meaningful religious harmony in the Aborigine spirit, something she questions in its Christian conquerors. By exposing the sin of Western civilization, Wright both pays tribute to a lost culture and forces the reader to reconsider his own notions of human nature.