Sitting in the corner on my balcony with Mr.Teddy Bear beside me, Looking around the view, beautiful scenery that has been created by God.The trees, fireflies everywhere and the million stars above me. Sound of crickets singing and frogs shouting each other , making some perfect harmony for this nature show. I’m ready to go to sleep. Lights off.
Sing sweet nightingale .. sing sweet nightingale.. from up above..
Wait a minute, what sound is that? I’m getting up from my bed and open my balcony door. I couldn’t believe with my eyes. There’s a couple of nightingale bird. Symbol of the poet. Symbol of their poetry. A poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds; his auditors are as men entranced by the melody of an unseen musician, who feel that they are moved and softened, yet know not whence or why (Shelley).
The male,unpaired male,start to singing to serve attracting a mate, with a loud whistling crescendo. The female blushing and they’re flying together under the moonlight, with a million stars as a witness and i as an audience. They’re seems so in love, so do i. I’ve a lot of beautiful symphony to you but i still can’t find the perfect words to translate it. How lucky you are nightingale. Your language of love is beyond beautiful .