Tuesday, 18 May 2010

Poem by the Dutch writer Jan Hanlo

It was four thirty one April morning
I was out walking, whistling the St. Louis Blues
Though whistling it in my own fashion
While whistling I thought: may my whistling
resemble the song of the mistle thrush
And so help me, after a while my
whistling of the St. Louis Blues actually
resembled the song of the mistle thrush:
turdus viscivorus

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