Monday, July 28, 2008

Poem for Monday, July 28, 2008

The nightingale sings

by Eqrem Basha

Who is that bird singing on a branch alone
And where is its flock
Which is the plaintive song
And which is the season

That bird has a voice adept
At singing on a solitary branch
No friends no family
It has come to earth on its own
With a flute in its beak and anguish
Which is neither a wound
Nor a song

What is that mourning so near which belongs to us
Sing to us nightingale sing

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