----You don't bird me, I don't bird you----
Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away.
And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall
there with a sign.
The bird wishes it were a cloud.
The cloud wishes it were a bird.
The fish in the water is silent, the animal on the earth is noisy,
the bird in the air is singing.
But Man has in him the silence of the sea, the noise of the earth and
the music of the air.
In the dusk of the evening the bird of some early dawn comes to
the nest of my silence.
Set the bird's wings with gold and it will never again soar in the sky.