Falcon

Touch my lips with your tail, enthralling troubadour
And renew your ties twice now
With my triangular elements.
No winding muse can measure your flight
Still even with all the wisdom
From the far east of Paran,
When you released your wings
At the lone songs of the weary Egyptian maid
And taught your folk arts to distant travellers.

Come into my dreams tonight, guardian bird of the road
And make your nest with me, your proselyte.

Touch my lips with your tail.