The little birds mystery

A bird with feathers of shining gold
perched on a branch of a tree,
It stood there watching,bold and noble,
and sung a melody.

Its lyrics are of nothing,
but the tune tells an honest tale,
Of dreams and hopes and memories,
and sings them in a wail.

A painful song the bold bird sings--
but beautiful all the same,
I remember what the bird is called--
though it hasn't any name.

I didn't see the bird for long
before it flew away
Towards the brightest sunshine
in the gloomy sky so grey.

Its melody remains there though,
on the branches of the tree,
And I have never since forgotten
The little bird's mystery.