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BIRD LIFE
(Zoniënwoud)
The Phoenix rises
majestically through the trees -
a dazzling eyeball.
An airplane traces
a silver plume in the sky -
first bird of the day.
Long grass and nettles,
shafts of sunlight through branches -
the chorus begins.
Little jenny wren -
in this rotten hollow birch
you shall find a perch.
Far from the North Sea
one feels like an old seagull
with tarry feathers.
A hut in the woods -
here one could be a hermit
feasting on pheasant.
I gaze at the oak
and someone tells me its name -
two birds with one stone.
In our sitting-room
a visitor makes her nest -
Peace the mystic dove.
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