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Song of the Nightingale

...On the outskirts of the town of Tehran the nightingale felt a strange stirring. It was like a butterfly testing its wings in his heart. While others burrowed deeply into nests to protect themselves from the wind, the nightingale flew from twig to leaf, seeking those berries which would help prepare his voice. "Get inside," warned the squirrel, "the day is too cold." "Return to your nest," advised the field-mouse, "there's a frost."

"What are you doing?" the mother of the nightingale asked. "Preparing to sing," he replied. For days the nightingale had felt this call. It was an inner command he could not resist. "Well, sing and be done with it," begged his mother. She looked across at her neighbour's home. "Her son is a fine nest-builder, I had to give birth to a poet." But the nigthingale paid no heed to the warnings or cold and made his preparations carefully.

Illustrations by Pamela Matthews


ISBN 0 95 98038 0 7

US$ 15.00