The Starling

Ah starling! Most welcome, you bird of good cheer!
Are we to have all your pranks again here?
Where have you stolen last winter your wine?
Last time you dined down at Mosel and Rhine,
Now you’ve most probably been at the Cape,
And with Constantia sampled the grape;
Or, flying salesmen, with tricks up your sleeve
Frequented Madeira, perhaps Tenerife.
By grapes enlivened, you’ll maybe foretell
That spring we’ve yearned for and wanted so well;
Clack like the stork, chirp like swallows that wing,
Or like the thrush and the nightingale sing.
But, if I listen most carefully too,
All’s imitation and never quite you;
Though you’re no expert, I am even so
Willing to give you the name of Pierrot.
Though not the tail-end of copies by far
With the original you’re not on par:
Yet you sweet memories of it provide,
With dreams of spring you my heart do revive.
And, as all know, a dream often can be
Lovelier than any reality.