Friday, May 26, 2017

JH Sayyar's Classical Odes

26. Ode to Veery

O tiny Veery, your throat, not a throat but a voice changer,
Producing sound, imitating it, you change your voice pitch,
Like a child who lost his way and away from his home ranger,
Or in a dark jungle, to frighten men changes her cries a witch
You, an expert musician, that changes tone according to situation,
Or a liar who changes his talks time to time men to deceive,
Or like a women’s heart that changes desires while window shopping,
You never produce the same sound, men fall in hallucination,
Where you sing and what you sing, men cannot perceive,
Like a spirit you sing in lonesome, as Medline’s eloping,

What do you sing? I do not know, but the changing sounds expose,
 Your life aim, nothing, but the imitation of your thrilling voice,
As my Lady does, her mood changes, anon, like cute rainbows,
Who changes her moon like song birds, and she does rejoice.
O Veery! Your imitating changing tone does not hurt listeners,
But my Lady’s varying mood, gives me grief day and dusk,
My heart seep with sad eyes, bit me bitterly her memories,
I do not live and live, an a corpse, like death prisoners,
Her reminiscences; injure me and burns heart like husk,
Weeping and sleeping, o Veery! Does not lesson my worries,

O Veery! Do not imitate your voice, but sing my sad sighs,
Dying wishes, old woes, new grief daily given to me.
By my Lady day and night, tell me how can I do rise?
Standing up with ado and falls like an injured Veery,
From the tree of false promise, I bleed anon, none to sustain,
As someone dies in desert, with heat and without life fluid
Around me the heat of lies, parching tongue and alone dying,
Come, O Veery! Come; bring water and sweet jungle food,
So, O Veery! Go and tell my Lady, I, here, you there flying