Sunday, November 10, 2013
The Garden Of Birds
Never use the birds, never swear to their flight,
But instead of relaxing be one of the praying men
Who are pious as the wind and the rain.
They obey the life, they obey the goal,
For piety resents instigators, feeling the foe.
The toil of the years is rejected by the sudden fools,
Birds are alive now in my heart,
Buds are growing too far,
Business is as usual for the priests.
These are hard-workers of the soil
Of the garden of Paradise.
The birds are in proud acclamations,
Singing their sweetest with the years of heavenly
Help and splendour.