Weekend Words: Birds
In its previous installment, Weekend Words had bees on its mind; now the birds have asked for equal time.
In its previous installment, Weekend Words had bees on its mind; now the birds have asked for equal time:
“Ev’ry little raven at the birdman’s stand
Talkin’ ’bout the lozzapoppin’ — it was grand
They started goin’ steady and bless my soul
Out popped the buzzard and the oriole.
“He rocks in the treetop all day long
Hoppin’ and a-boppin’ and a-singin’ his song
All the little birds on Jaybird Street
Love to hear the robin go tweet, tweet, tweet.”
—Leon Renè, from “Rockin’ Robin”
“Did St. Francis preach to the birds? Whatever for? If he really liked birds he would have done better to preach to the cats.”
—Rebecca West
“Be grateful for luck. Pay the thunder no mind — listen to the birds. And don’t hate nobody.”
—Eubie Blake
“Everything that’s realistic has some sort of ugliness in it. Even a flower is ugly when it wilts, a bird when it seeks its prey.”
—Sharon Tate
“I was raised in South Carolina; I wasn’t aware of any art in South Carolina. There was a minor museum in Charleston, which had nothing of interest in it. It showed local artists, paintings of birds.”
—Jasper Johns
“A gold-feathered bird
Sings in the palm, without human meaning,
Without human feeling, a foreign song.”
—Wallace Stevens, from “On Mere Being”
“What a kid I got. I told him about the birds and the bees and he told me about the butcher and my wife.”
—Rodney Dangerfield
