26. Ode to Veery

 


26. Ode to Veery

              By JH Sayyar


1
O Veery, your throat, nice voiced; change
You with the new songs change your pitch,
Like a lost child away from his home range,
Or in a jungle, men shout seeing a witch
Like a soloist, change tone according to situation,
Or a liar who changes his talks to deceive,
Or like a girl’s heart makes window shopping,
You produce many sounds, men fall in hallucination,
Where and what you sing; men cannot perceive,
Like a spirit you sing, as Medline’s eloping,

2
I do not know your songs, but the sounds expose,
Your aim, nothing,; the imitation of a voice,
Like Lady’s mood changes like rainbows,
Who changes mood like birds, she does rejoice.
O Veery! Your imitate tones; hurt not the listeners,
But my Lady’s mood, gives grief day to dusk,
Heart seeps, bits me bitterly her memories,
I do not live as a corpse, like death prisoners,
Her reminiscences; burns my heart like husk,
Weeping and sleeping, lesson not my worries,


3
O Veery! Do not imitate voice, sing sighs,
Dying wishes, woes, grief; daily given to me.
By my Lady, tell me how can I do rise?
Stand up with much ado; fall like a Veery,
From the false woo tree, I bleed, none to sustain,
As someone dies in a desert, without a life fluid
Around me lies, a parching tongue; alone dying,
O Veery! Come; bring water and sweet jungle food,
Go and tell my Lady, I, here, you there flying

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