A blackbird, black as black can be,

Lights on the leafless window tree

And turns his yellow beak towards me.


Stare as he may, he cannot see

Beyond reflection - blackbird, tree:

I am the person who cannot be.


Yet while I look, it seems to me

I face the window invisibly:

Nothing is there I cannot see.


‘But you,’ says God, ‘are clear to Me,

Just like My blackbird in My tree:

I am the One you cannot see.’


Suddenly the blackbird leaves the tree,

Flies away without need of me:

I have no power that makes him be.


‘But I,’ says God, ‘who make You be,

Keep you beside this window-tree

A blackbird somewhat turned towards me.’