Cicada

The Cicada (Unknown Author, Greek Anthology)

Shepherds, why do you harry me in the chase
and pluck me from the flower's dew-wet sprays?

The nymphs say I'm the roadside nightingale;
at noon I shrilly call from hollow and hill.

But thrush and blackbird, starling and crow
that plunder your fields, ravaging row after row,

singing while they destroy—go after them,
and leave me to compose the mid-day hymn.

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