It is because the nightingale
Has sung throughout the night,
That from the sweet sound
Of her echoing song
The roses have sprung up.
~ from ‘Die Nachtigall’ by Alban Berg
Late Autumn Song
Softest of mornings,
I love it when you flirt
on this side of fall,
with a pinch of cold, and
the blushes of a summer sky
as the red and gold leaves
outside sing as they turn,
whispering close to my ears,
doing to me what the roses
must have felt at the song
of the nightingale.