I would not be a bird
When wind is in the trees;
I would not be a starling
For all his melodies.
As I went past the orchard
The sun had almost set,
And all aloft the elm tree
A thousand starlings met.
Every tongue was dry,
They whistled kling and gee,
They looked up at the sky
And they looked down at me.
Now strong be starling heart
And ready every wing,
For dark night to shelter
Drives hedger, priest and king.
I would not be a starling,
I would not be a bird,
As they all rose together
And their wings drummed and whirred.
