Thirty Poems/The Lost Bird
THE LOST BIRD.
From the Spanish of Carolina Coronado de Perry
My bird has flown away,Far out of sight has flown, I know not where. Look in your lawn, I pray, Ye maidens, kind and fair,And see if my beloved bird be there. His eyes are full of light;The eagle of the rock has such an eye; And plumes, exceeding bright, Round his smooth temples lie,And sweet his voice and tender as a sigh. Look where the grass is gayWith summer blossoms, haply there he cowers; And search, from spray to spray, The leafy laurel bowers,For well he loves the laurels and the flowers. Find him, but do not dwell,With eyes too fond, on the fair form you see, Nor love his song too well; Send him, at once, to me,Or leave him to the air and liberty. For only from my handHe takes the seed into his golden beak, And all unwiped shall stand The tears that wet my cheek,Till I have found the wanderer I seek.
My sight is darkened o'er,Whene'er I miss his eyes, which are my day, And when I hear no more The music of his lay,My heart in utter sadness faints away.