By Pablo Neruda
The bird has come
to bring light to birth.
From every trill of his,
water is born.
And between water and light which unwind the air,
now the spring is inaugurated,
now the seed is aware of its own growing;
the root takes shape in the corolla,
at last the eyelids of the pollen open.
All this accomplished by a simple bird
from his perch on a green branch