Hither I am, love
Hear mine amorous song;
Gather thy twigs, and
Perch drunkenly upon mine heart.
With thy beak, tender
And untouchable;
Too strange and narrow
To smile.
Head of the pecking order,
Flick thy feathers;
Revealing pink flesh, beneath
Soft, black plumage.
Oh, have I felt thou shivering, shaking
In the wind, alone; And I, love
Have desire
To keep thee warm.
Thou need not this delirium, thou
Need not bathe in misery, nor
Relentless persuasion, love,
If I must tell thee.
If I must tell thee, again and again;
Mine love is song nestled within oak
And the place, love,
Thou may speaketh as thy home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem