| 8. BIRDSONG He doesn't know the world at all Who stays in his nest and doesn't go out. He doesn't know what birds know best Nor what I want to sing about, That the world is full of loveliness. When dewdrops sparkle in the grass And earth's aflood with morning light, A blackbird sings upon a bush To greet the dawning after night. Then I know how fine it is to live. Hey, try to open up your heart To beauty; go to the woods someday And weave a wreath of memory there. Then if the tears obscure your way You'll know how wonderful it is To be alive. --Anonymous 1941 Terezin Home | Poem 1 | Poem 2 | Poem 3 | Poem 4 | Poem 5 | Poem 6 | Poem 7 | | Poem 8 | Poem 9 |