Well, uh, maybe it's like this...
A Berd at Reb Ternerz Windo
I stumbel thru this narrel forres
Weeping, los, heer, enshrowden in addom.
Wuns I stoud uppon a hi hill
Louking over theze shaddowee vaelz.
The russelling leevz chant thaer lammentaten.
The brouks proffesy, a gergel in my eer.
I karee my noetbouk like a reffugee hiz trunk.
Am I wokking in serkelz? This Forres! Theze Voisez!
Till a lite braeks thru theze branchen, diffracten,
A thowzen pathwayz in the moment ov hope.
A lite, a border in the vannetteez and vienz.
A ragged begger noks on a dor.
Branchez trembel az I peer akross,
The begger appeering, disappeering, branch-born.
The dor openz, a suffuzen in lite.
"Kum in, my fren; I hav bin waeting.
"Yu karee a messij within yur kloek.
"If yu giv it tu me, I will take it ferther.
"Let us bless bred and exchaenj mellodeez.
Like a berd on a branch, I lissen at the windo:
"The messij I karee, hav yu alreddee herd?
"A hundred, a thowzen ar breenging it heer.
"Iz it chans or perpos that yu heer it frum me?
"Like a berd on a branch in a flok ov berdz,
"Yu heer the mellodee az I am sing.
"Iz it chans or perpos that the flock fillz a tree?
"Perpos or chans that it floks awway?
"And yu ar ammung annuther thowzen,
"Yu, allone; reheers it in yur sellz.
Like blowing leevz Yur voisez russel.
Like a gergelling brouk Yu sing.
And I hu wonderz the forres, morning,
I, tuu, karee Yur vers tu the werl.
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