It’s empty now-
though not if you consider
that absence can fill a vessel.
The rains have not come for weeks, love—
the birds are dying,
one by one of suffication
like the mind does,
day after day of exhaustion.
And yet the sparrows sing,
only now it’s funeral hymns—
and my heart I suppose
is full of useless nonsense:
love and all his facial expressions.
Today I will write a eulogy for the birds
and dedicate it to my addiction-
but the words, the words beat themselves
against the sides of my skull,
like frantic birds, caught inside a bell.
I have to say it, this is so brilliantly done, something about the statement that sets a deep connecting here Thankyou for sharing this Love duncan x
Powerful poem. The more that I read it the more it moves me. Well done. Curious to find deeper meanings of people's poetry. Talk to me...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You took symbols of joy and made them sing a sad but beautiful song...your birds break the heart...but who knows where healing begins?