a certain indefinite number of Petrarchan “sonnets” (8)
the language of birds
A LONELY warbler lifts his voice in song
to pierce the mantle of the morning air
a muezzin, calling faithful hearts to prayer
from his minaret, the dispatch clear and strong
one by one, more voices rise and sing along
each vote adding to the chorus fair
in trailing melodies, like damsel’s hair
each one adding to the melodious throng
with such natural ease, the speech of birds
is spoke, their cadences by perfect rote
they seem to know, while my well-chosen words
my tongue trip up, and stumble in my throat
the tongue, they say, is mightier than swords
let me then, like Solomon, devote
myself to learn the language of the birds
great one. my favorite so far (i know nothing about poetry, so my opinion really doesn't count). anyway, i never had much interest in Islam at all, but i confess the muezzin is the exception. there's something about it that really appeals to me, and you captured it really well here. thank you.
Thank you Max ! This is truly precious !
Beautiful costume that yellow pigmentation. It is always uplifting and such a joyous event whenever I recognize another singing bird again. You really can try to listen closely to their song. I only can encourage to hold on for a moment to dedicate a little bit of your time.