My nightingale
even in your silence
I hear your song
Sweet with mournful pride
It echoes on the hills
As your eyes do in dreams
to linger though
the day
and inspire dreams again
Sing out sweet bird
let your voice
drown out shadows
of reflected past
Rise high
With wings spread
Rise higher
Than the sorrow
of your song
Soar
and let your plumage
become stars radiant
for ages all
to marvel
My Nightingale
Let your song
end silence
Let your flight
awaken dawn