Your smile so warm your hands so fair;
You cannot hear me can you, lad?
Your smile makes me slightly less sad.
The things I say you will not hear,
The things I say you need not fear;
For I am but a head of stone,
That none can see, but I alone.
So let me reflect on my tale,
Pretend you hear me without fail;
Perhaps someday at end of Time
I'll crumble into dust sublime;
And then--I may fall silent then.
So play upon my stony back,
What joy and fun you do not lack;
And let an old stone statue talk,
Do be at ease, I will not walk.
It has not always been like this,
Once so could I my true love kiss;
Once so was I a little bird,
Though memory fades, in rain all blurred.
Once so I traversed all the world,
My spirit high my wings unfurled;
I felt the wind, embraced the sky,
From glass-paved streets to mountains high.
A dream I had, a lofty dream,
To kiss Calliope's white seam;
And then one night she came to me,
Opened her soul for me to see.
She showed me of the golden verse,
I bathed in rich Creation's purse;
In dream I sang and danced and wrote,
Awake I composed Heaven's note.
A-glow I was, invincible,
Youth's blindness now, I see in full;
But then I flew up on and on;
Where Icarus had once long gone.
I flew too far, believed too much,
That all was mine, not divine touch;
Whatever reason is enough,
I was cast down into the rough.
They burned my feathers, clipped my wings,
Cast me to dark and shadowed things;
That gnawed at flesh till days I'd not slept!
Seraph was I, now worms on me crept.
But did it end in death, fair mind?
Oh no, death would have been too kind;
A curse the gods bestowed on me;
To never ever more be free.
Into the rock my soul was chained;
Infernal pain by sky ordained;
I am not flesh I am not bone;
I am accursed to skin of stone.
Skin of stone, not flesh and bone,
Can never call a love their own;
So close you come, my gentle dove,
Your touch could send my soul above.
But I am cursed in skin of stone,
In Summer's glow I sit alone;
When Winter comes, the birds fly south,
I see them flock to the sun's mouth.
They fly to that bright shining sea,
They fly to that not meant for me;
For through the stone I cannot touch,
Through stone a hug can be too much.
Lad, before you go;
Please tell the birds I miss them so;
Please hug the man I used to know;
Ah, you are gone--such endless woe!
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