The Canticle
Far off I hear the singing of a thrush
So far, in some far place, the deepest hush,
There rises up a clear sweet sound of faith,
Foolish one, to sing a note so brief
Foolish one, no soul is there to hear
Except the simple spirit of the deer,
The heartless trees that sway not for a song
But for the wind, the silence does you wrong
Wordless one, so far away you sing,
Never will I see the singer fly,
Nor see the spotted breast, unfolded wing,
The closing of the song enchanted eye
Lovely one, come closer so I can
Sing songs with you, the canticle of Man
Pavel
September 10, 2011
