20 May 2012
So I'm the creature of the dark The one that you call death I sneak up in the dead of night And steal your final breath
In Ancient China long ago I went to do the same The Emperor lay in his bed I was to steal his fame!
Beside him lay a little bird Made of jewels and gold He was so weak he could not bear The weight of the bird to hold
He cried and caressed it tenderly And begged for it to sing Like the dull grey bird once did Oh, the joy the bird could bring!
Tears flooded his watering eyes As he began to remember And he thought about the little bird His heart burnt like an ember
It burned deep within his chest With the memory of the dull grey bird He'd called it ungrateful, cast it out Forgetting just what he'd heard
At first he had been satisfied With the nightingales sweet song But then arrived a gift for him A bird with voice so strong!
It could only sing a few notes But glittered with Golden wealth However this replacement broke As did the emperors health
And this is where I came in I wished to make him mine I went to grasp him with my hand Then was stopped by music divine!
Even though he'd suffered exile The nightingale poured out his heart He sang his love for the emperor And wished he wouldnt depart!
I stopped and listened to his lament His crying for his king The bird was giving it his all He continued to sing and sing!
In the end I let him go You cannot win them all And it was well worth listening to The voice of one so small
I hope the emperor realised How materialism can kill I hope the only music he hears From a natural beak does spill!
I.Sparrow
Nightingale Emperor • Opuss № I