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.’