A bird is singing don’t know where

It’s your soul that keeps watch here

Amongst all soldiers worth a care

Charming sovereign my ear

Hark it chant most tenderly

On which branch or twig say you

And it goes on charming me

Night and day and Sundays too

What shall I say of this bird

Of whatever metamorphoses

Of soul into tree-sung word

Of heart into sky of sky into roses

The soldier hears it sing as love

And I my love who is a girl

No rose so fine and say you of

Myself the singing’s for no churl

Bluebird as the heart is blue

Of my love with heart celestial

Your song so sweet repeat it you

To the machine gun funereal

Upon the horizon ringing out

Those are stars sown in the tilth

So passes every day and night

Love blue as blue the heart itself

Guillaume Apollinaire