O Nightingale, Nightingale
You neither possess the vibrancy of the peacock nor that of a parrot
Yet, your acoustic presence has shaped human literature, poetry, and mythology
Emotional and evocative
Breathtakingly complex in the natural world
Your syrinx allows you to sing a duet with a flautist
As the flautist walks through the dense forest
On a night the moon doth shine bright
He sees a nightingale perched upon a tree and asks,
“O’ nightingale, why do you not sing tonight? The night is young, and the
moon sprinkles upon the grounds, its sacred light.”
The nightingale looked this way and that, and said in return,
“Though the moon doth sprinkle its light upon the ground, there seem to be
no streams of rhythm nor a lyrical tune that comes to mind,
matching the moon and its splendorous revealing.
The moon beguiles me as it does you, my friend.”
The flautist thought for a while. He sat down under the tree and
saw the moonlight fall on his form.
The rays warmed him. The nightingale watched him like a hawk.
The flautist took out his flute, and looking up at the nightingale, he said,
“I shall play a tune to match the moonshine for you.
You can sing along if you want.”
The soothing sounds of the flute reached the far corners of the land.
The nightingale became a shadow because it couldn’t match the melodious composition
of the song on the flute, a love song that awoke the night from its slumber.
