University of Virginia Library

THE PARROT OF RUMI.

Here looking at the purple clouds
That wrap the closing day,
My thoughts go back to Rumi's tale
About the parrot grey.
A merchant ere his journey,
To his parrot thus said he:
“I go from hence to the parrot-land,
Where wondrous things there be.
“What shall I bring to please my bird
From distant climes afar,
Where the rose it grows and the spice-wind blows,
And the pearls and diamonds are?

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“Shall I bring you a ruby necklace,
And a cage of gold so fine,
Or a cup from a single amethyst
To hold your bread and wine?”
Then answered him the mournful bird:
“For these I have no care;
But when you reach the parrot-land,
This message safely bear.
“I pine all day upon my perch,
And they at pleasure rove;
I beat my wings against the bars,
They flutter through the grove.
“Though white my bread and red my wine,
These are not sweet to me;
Then let my brothers send me word
How best I may be free.”
The merchant heard and left the bird,
And went by steel and star,
Till he came to the beautiful parrot-land,
In the southern climes afar.
And there the parrots of every kind
And every hue he saw,
The green and grey, with the paroquet gay,
And the spiteful, bright macaw.
He summoned them all to hear the tale
That he was bidden to tell;
And he used the very words that from
The beak of his parrot fell.

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And when he had closed, an ash-grey bird
Which sat another beside,
Heaved its breast and fluttered its wings,
And fell from its perch and died.
And a parrot whose head was marked with red,
And body was apple-green,
Cried out, “Go back and tell your bird
The sight which you have seen.”
“Ah me!” the sorrowing merchant said,
“That was my parrot's mate,
Who died with grief to hear from me
Her old companion's state.”
The parrots gathered round the bird
That on the greensward lay;
And sad at heart to see their woe,
The merchant turned away.
He left behind the scented vines,
And the grove of cinnamon trees,
And spread his vessel's yellow sails
To catch the homeward breeze.
First to the east and then to the west
He sailed a month or more,
And then he travelled a week on land
To reach his open door.
He kissed his wife and his children all;
Gay gifts around he flung,
And then he sought the garden, where
The parrot's cage was hung.

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To and fro the cage was swinging
From the limb of a citron tree;
And the parrot was swinging in the cage,
And gayly chatted he.
“Fair welcome back, good master mine!”
The parrot voice was clear—
“Have you been to the beautiful parrot-land,—
And what did you see and hear?”
“I have been to the parrot-land afar,
Your message there I bore
To parrots grey and parrots green,
Who think of you no more.
“Of those but two remember you;
One, sitting its mate beside,
So grieved to hear the tale I brought
It fell to earth and died.
“The other sat on a bough above,
And plumed its feathers green,
And bade me back and tell you what
My eyes that day had seen.”
The parrot made no answer then,
Its breast began to swell;
It gasped for breath, it closed its eyes,
And from its perch it fell.
“Ah me!” the merchant sorrowing said,
“That I should have such woe,
To lose in death the beautiful bird
Whose talking pleased me so.

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“I'll dig it a grave both wide and deep,
And o'er it plant a rose,
And think upon the bird I loved,
Whene'er the leaves unclose.”
Then from the cage the lifeless bird
With careful hand he drew,
When it opened its eyes and spread its wings,
And up in the air it flew.
And with it flew another bird—
The merchant knew it well
As that which in the parrot-land
From the bough of cinnamon fell.
Off to the land of spice and gems,
The couple flew away;
And never more the merchant's eyes
Beheld the parrot grey.