There is a bird feathered with all the five colours,
Which perches solely in the wu-tong trees
And eats only the fruits of the bamboo shoots.
Gracefully it moves in full accord with rituals and rites;
Harmoniously it sings with proper notes and tones.
Last night it homed—why did it arrive?
It was because of you that it appeared for a while.
Hearing the tune of your strings and your voice,
It danced delightfully to meet the sunrise.
birds of a feather...
The ideal summons the ideal...
Diana....
Blessings,
Christine
Regis
Ron