Ancient egypcian pastoral poem
The Voice of the Swallow, Flittering, Calls to Me
The voice of the swallow, flittering, calls to me;
"Land's alight! Whither away?"
No, little bird, you cannot entice me,
I follow you to the fields no more.
Like you in the dawn mist I rose,
at sunrise discovered my lover abed
(his voice is sweeter)
"Wake," I said "or I will fly with the swallow."
And my heart smiled back
when he, smiling, said:
"You shall not fly
Nor shall I, bright bird.
But hand in hand
We shall walk the Nileside pathways,
under cool of branches, hidden
(only the swallows watching)
Wide-eyed gir'
I shall be with you in all glad places.�
Can you match the notes of that song, little swallow?
I am first in his field of girls!
My heart , dear sister, sings in his hand -
love never harmed a winged creature.
Translated by John I. Foster
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