The Bird Singer
Who sings those enchanting song
and wake the dormant boiling blood?
Their singing interrupt the silence,
and it seemed to me as if
they were singing, a welcome to the spring.
I opened my window
in the blue dawn,
listening those sounds
above my lawn.
And when the sun rose
and darkness disappeared,
I saw, on the fruit trees,
Magic plays its game
So gorgeous, with a drops of the rain.
The golden sun shines over the trees
And a little bird between their leaves
is still singing a song, on the light
And I know
That was a singer all that night.
© 2014 Dream Lover