Bom

By Bom

Birds Galore

I thoroughly enjoyed watching the tennis this morning, the windy day was affecting the precision play and led to some upsets. Then I went out to top up the bird feeders and take a photo. This time there was a smash and grab on the fat balls by a gang of long tailed tits - there are 5 in the photo, another couple on the other half of the feeder and a few waiting in the tree nearby. They arrived together, and left only a couple of minutes or so later - such funny characters.

It was a bird day as I then went for a bird related lunchtime event at the Norfolk Wildlife Trust at Cley. The talk was by my friend H's husband M who explored the subject of Birds in Music and Poetry. He told us how birds often inspired poetry and in turn music, with lots of examples and the poetry being read out brilliantly by a local poet and the music being accompanied by images and videos by F who is in our photo group. It was a truly uplifting event, just wonderful. One example was of a poem called The Bird's Lament by my favourite poet John Clare, which inspired music of the same title by Richard Rodney Bennett. I found the music with some photos on YouTube to give you an idea of what it was like, and have included the poem below.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5pYaGlWmqI

Birds' Lament by John Clare

Oh, says the linnet, if I sing,
My love forsook me in the spring,
And nevermore will I be seen
Without my satin gown of green.

Oh, says the pretty-feathered jay,
Now my love is fled away
For the memory of my dear
A feather of each sort I'll wear.

Oh, says the sparrow, my love is gone,
She so much that I doted on,
And e'er since for that selfsame thing
I've made a vow I ne'er will sing.

Oh, says the water-wag-my-tail,
I courted a fair one but could not prevail,
I could not with my love prevail,
So that is the reason I wag my tail.

Oh, says the pretty speckled thrush,
That changes its note from bush to bush,
My love has left me here alone
And I fear she never will return.

Oh, says the rook, and eke the crow,
The reason why in black we go--
Because our love has us forsook,
So pity us, poor crow and rook.

Oh, says the owl, my love is gone,
It was her I doted on;
Since she has gone I know not where to follow,
But after her I'll whoop and hollo.

Comments
Sign in or get an account to comment.