The Irrelevant Song
Brian Patten
Already in the woods the light grass has darkened.
Like a necklace of deaths the flowers hug the ground.
Their scents, once magically known,
Seem now irretrievable.
Because joy and sorrow must finally unite
And the small heart beat of the sparrow
Be heard above jet-roar
I will sing,
Not of tomorrow's impossible paradise
But of what now radiates.
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