This cedar tree is temporary
And so in longer time the hill
It stands upon -
But of all that’s momentary
The bluebird’s wing it is I feel,
Lit through by sun.

In this impeccable convergence
Of matter into beauty there’s
Such loveliness -
The bird itself a rare emergence,
With it the sun, and to the pair’s
A living witness.

Go, song, and lightly,
But don’t let her miss your meaning:
My love for her makes every
Subject of my singing.

                        Bertrand de Sanct Luis