A Wounded Bird
1
You said I was a bird with a broken
wing. I am afraid that when you have
nursed me to health I might fly away.
2
The sadness in your eyes haunts me.
When you have given me life and
I take my lonely flight (Can I help
that?) will it not break your heart?
Why do you breathe life into me, when it
will be the death of both of us?
3
Do not grieve at my stony face. My
heart warms to your every smile, every
touch. I almost feel the strength to
fly. Shall I get well and lose you?
4
That I love you is clear
since I ask you for nothing.
I would love you even if you went away
leaving my wing bleeding.
5
I feel guilty that my condition
made you interrupt your play.
No, you have hung around me for many
days now, stroking my feathers, dressing
my wounds. Can I ever repay you?
6
You have whispered in my ears
that I look so weak and wan that
you must help me. And what patience!
I haven't spoken, you still console
me with your beautiful words.
7
Don't you realize that you are
wasting your youth on a
bird with shrivelled limbs
when your garden is full of handsome
admirers? They know many clever
games to amuse you.
8
I admit I have called you sometimes
with my cries.
9
In your absence your image has
lain with me. The shadow of
your soft hand has warmed my
feathers in the cold nights.
10
Shall I get well and live with
you in a gilded cage woven
by your deft fingers
or shall I paint your form
on these rocks before I fly off?
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