While all the world is in silence deep,
In the tiwlight of earning dawning,
They begin to chirp and twitter and peep,
As if they were talking in their sleep,
At three o'clock in the morning.

Perhaps they tell secrets that should not be heard
By mortals listening and some by prying;
Perhaps we might learn from some whispered word
The best way to bring up a little bird,
Or the wonderful art of flying.

It may be the gossip from nest to nest,
Hidden and leaf-enfolded;
For do we not often hear it confessed,
When a long-kept secret at last is guessed,
That "a little bird has told it"?

What do the robins whisper about
In the twilight of early dawning?
Listen, and tell me, if you find it out,
What 'tis the robins whisper on about
At three o'clock in the morning.

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Mayan, in the year 930 AF.