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A Nightingale And A Lark

A Nightingale And A Lark

A NightingaleAnd A Lark

On a wintry morning, a nightingale,
With winter fever and feeling restive,
Comes to a lark, perching beside his cage,
Can you give me a shelter in your hanging home?
There is chill outside, freezing my nose,
No grains to eat and nobody to care,
The lark replied in a mournful tone,
I am a caged bird, forlorn and alone,
I have to sing to my master, you to your soul,
I wish I, too, were a free bird like you,
I want to give a precious advice to you,
Try to bear chill and hunger, a while,
Try to realize you have a home of your own,
Try to feel the pain of being locked up,
Try to imagine slavery, servitude, and being homeless,
Be patient, and hope snow shall melt away,
And the colourful spring shall set in again,
It is better to die like a free hungry bird,
Than to be a tummy-full bird in a cage,
Then the nightingale murmered to himself
It is great to be free, out of a cage,
He jumps up and begins to glide,
As up he flies in the expansive sky,
He sings and dances without a break,
In chirrup, chatter, whistle, and tweet,
Sweet to the ear and pleasing to the soul,
To fill the skies and thrill the birds,
With the song of eternal freedom,
In endless notes of immense delight
For all to hear and all to know
That the best is he who wings up and up
His voice ascends and echoes all around
Awakening all the caged birds to get free


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