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I seem to have seen it in numerous forms, numerous times.
Life after life, age after age. Always. Forever.
The summer’s warmth seems to encompass the very depths of the soul,
The spell-bound heart tears down its protective walls,
As though it has always been safe – entirely and forever.
Countless old fantasies of its being and its age-old coming,
It’s eternal tune of going and of coming yet again,
Cross my branches upon which a silent bird sits,
Again bored with the inconveniences caused by the end of spring
And becoming an image of what is remembered forever.
He and his mate had flown here like singing gypsies in a raging storm,
At the height of which came their love for one another.
They sang alongside countless lovers, all sharing in the same
Shy chorus of meeting, and then the same distressful tears of farewell.
Yes, an old love song, but in beats that renew and renew forever.
Summer dries up those tears. He has found his heart’s song on my branch.
The newly-hatched young stretch forth their feathers and beaks.
Always growing, always learning, as they’ve always done.
The memories of all loves merge with this one I share with them
And the tunes of every song — past and present and forever.