The silent wood echoed with twitters and trills.
A red, round sun shimmered in the golden sky.
‘Twas morning in the songbirds’ Minstreland.
The tits and thrushes showing their musical skills,
But, the nightingale, its sweet throat rough and dry,
Wistfully wept and watched the ‘Happy band’.
The old wise warbler noticed the wretched bird
“Oh dear, God hadn’t created you in quietness
So sing and rapture us with your melodic voice.”
The nightingale wailed after what she had heard.
“Sir, this bitter world envies me and my sweetness
I’m a songbird, But, silence, now,is my only choice.”
The two birds were joined by the ‘Happy band’
Smiting the nightingale and shooing the other,
Bullied the thrush, “You notorious nightingale,
I am not a silly songworm like you, understand!
I warble, waltz and gambol in the sunlit weather.
And this is my sweet fortune, for you – a fairytale!
The nightingale was enraged in the starless night,
She bellowed and fumed in shock and frustration,
“I’m a songbird and silence is not my nature.
If not earth, the Heavens shall offer me my right.”
She drank the hemlock’s poison with satisfaction
Spread her wings and flew towards a better future.