The Aeroplane

Perched on a rosebush branch One morning, a bird said To other birds:

“The son of man has not been given wings, And so this poor fool is earthbound.”

I said to him: “O little bird, Who talk so airily, Do not mind if I speak the truth to you.

We have made of the aeroplane our wings, And so have found a way to heaven.

What a sky soaring bird Is this our aeroplane, With speedier wings than angels’ wings

In flight a royal falcon and An eagle in sheer strength, With far flung regions in its range!

While in the sky, it thunders and it roars; But in its nest it is as quiet as a fish.

Our wisdom has created Gabriels From common clay, And has made of the earth a proof of heaven.”

On hearing my speech that wise bird Looked at me in a knowing way.

Then, scratching his wings with his beak, He said: “I do not marvel at your words;

But tell me, O you, who can see The how and why of things, Whose magic holds sway over everything, Be it high, be it low

Have you done well your tasks on earth That you are meddling with the sky?”