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Bright Birds by Frederick C. Parmée I hold them in my captive heart, these bright caged birds that sing the story of my people, these deep-sounding ocean words of my language. When shall I see them free in flight? See, they flutter pitifully, eager to be free. Must I wait until they can no longer fly? Until they can no longer make the great word music of my tribe? Come, bright birds, sing the old song that your master the sun may have pity, and you take flight, rise again in countless clouds of fluttering wings from the dark maraes of the city.

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/TAH196512.2.26

Bibliographic details

Te Ao Hou, December 1965, Page 52

Word Count
103

Bright Birds Te Ao Hou, December 1965, Page 52

Bright Birds Te Ao Hou, December 1965, Page 52

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