265 When the bird springs reborn from its bower of herbs,
Proud of pinion, pleased with new life,
Young and full of grace, from the ground he then
Skillfully piles up the scattered parts
Of the graceful body, gathers the bones,
270 Which the funeral fire aforetime devoured;
Then brings altogether the bones and the ashes,
The remnant of the flames he arranges anew,
And carefully covers that carrion spoil
With fairest flowers. Then he fares away,
275 Seeking the sacred soil of his birthplace.
With his feet he fastens to the fire's grim leavings,
Clasps them in his claws and his country again,
The sun-bright seat, he seeks in joy,
His own native-land. All is renewed--
280 His body and feathers, in the form that was his,
When placed in the pleasant plain by his Maker,
By gracious God. Together he bringeth
The bones of his body which were burned on the pyre,
Which the funeral flames before had enveloped,
285 And also the ashes; then all in a heap
This bird then burieth the bones and embers,
His ashes on the island. Then his eyes for the first time
Catch sight of the sun, see in the heaven
That flaming gem, the joy of the firmament
290 Which beams from the east over the ocean billows.
Before is that fowl fair in its plumage,
Bright colors glow on its gorgeous breast,
Behind its head is a hue of green,
With brilliant crimson cunningly blended.
295 The feathers of its tail are fairly divided:
Some brown, some flaming, some beautifully flecked
With brilliant spots. At the back, his feathers
Are gleaming white; green is his neck
Both beneath and above, and the bill shines
300 As glass or a gem; the jaws glisten
Within and without. The eye ball pierces,
And strongly stares with a stone-like gaze,
Like a clear-wrought gem that is carefully set
Into a golden goblet by a goodly smith.
305 Surrounding its neck like the radiant sun,
Is the brightest of rings braided with feathers;
Its belly is wondrous with wealth of color,
Sheer and shining. A shield extends
Brilliantly fair above the back of the fowl.
310 The comely legs are covered with scales;
The feet are bright yellow. The fowl is in beauty
Peerless, alone, though like the peacock
Delightfully wrought, as the writings relate.
It is neither slow in movement, nor sluggish in mien,
315 Nor slothful nor inert as some birds are,
Who flap their wings in weary flight,
But he is fast and fleet, and floats through the air,
Marvelous, winsome, and wondrously marked.
Blessed is the God who gave him that bliss!
320 When at last it leaves the land, and journeys
To hunt the fields of its former home,
As the fowl flieth many folk view it.
It pleases in passing the people of earth,
Who are seen assembling from south and north;
325 They come from the east, they crowd from the west,
Faring from afar; the folk throng to see
The grace that is given by God in his mercy
To this fairest fowl, which at first received
From gracious God the greatest of natures
330 And a beauty unrivalled in the race of birds.
Then over the earth all men marvel
At the freshness and fairness and make it famous in writings;
With their hands they mould it on the hardest of marble,
Which through time and tide tells the multitudes
335 Of the rarity of the flying one. Then the race of fowls
On every hand enter in hosts,
Surge in the paths, praise it in song,
Magnify the stern-hearted one in mighty strains;
And so the holy one they hem in in circles
340 As it flies amain. The Phoenix is in the midst
Pressed by their hosts. The people behold
And watch with wonder how the willing bands
Worship the wanderer, one after the other,
Mightily proclaim and magnify their King,
345 Their beloved Lord. They lead joyfully
The noble one home; but now the wild one
Flies away fast; no followers may come
From the happy host, when their head takes wing
Far from this land to find his home.
V
350 So the dauntless fowl after his fiery death
Happily hastens to his home again,
To his beauteous abode. The birds return,
Leaving their leader, with lonely hearts,
Again to their land; then their gracious lord
355 Is young in his courts. The King Almighty,
God alone knows its nature by sex,
Male or female; no man can tell,
No living being save the Lord only
How wise and wondrous are the ways of the bird,
360 And the fair decree for the fowl's creation!
There the happy one his home may enjoy,
With its welling waters and woodland groves,
May live in peace through the passing of winters
A thousand in number; then he knows again
365 The ends of his life; over him is laid
The funeral fire: yet he finds life again,
And wondrously awakened he waxes in strength.
He droops not nor dreads his death therefore,
The awful agony, since always he knows
370 That the lap of the flame brings life afresh,
Peace after death, when undaunted once more
Fully feathered and formed as a bird
Out of the ashes up he can spring,
Safe under the heavens. To himself he is both
375 A father and a son, and finds himself also
Ever the heir to his olden life.
The Almighty Maker of man has granted
That though the fire shall fasten its fetters upon him,
He is given new life, and lives again
380 Fashioned with feathers as aforetime he was.