Versified Life of Saint Francis
Henri d' Avranches
Eighth Book: His Fervor at Damietta in Crossing the Nile to Convert the Enemy, His Speech to the Birds Upon Return, Releasing Their Sylvan Song in Praise of Their Lord
 [1232-1239] Henri d' Avranches, "His Fervor at Damietta in Crossing the Nile to Convert the Enemy, His Speech to the Birds Upon Return, Releasing Their Sylvan Song in Praise of Their Lord," Eighth Book in The Versified Life of Saint Francis, reprinted in Francis of Assisi, Early Documents: The Saint (New York, New City Press: 1999; Google Books: Online Library of Free eBooks: Online Preview).
He urges not alone humans but the very beasts of the field
To utter the divine praises. And oft did the wonder occur
That though they lacked the power of reason they would obey
His words to them and understand him when he spoke.
His delight was to visit the various parts of his lands
And while near Bevagna he espies an assortment of birds
Congregated in a closely knit flock; a mild bravery
Was making them await his kindly approach. Ye he wonders
Why, and how they could come to know the secret
Of his gentleness. Up he comes, calling them brothers,
Said to them: "O noble product of the First and Powerful One
How right and proper for you to ring out his praises!
Up about the world he places your bodies, covering you
With wings and plumage. He made straight tracks for you,
With nothing to strike against, there in the heavens,
And set you in the pure air, where you are not weighted
Down like us, although of the same element.
He produced the fish and yourselves, your nobility
Is the greater, your course is swifter, your range
Is wider, greater your freedom, and more delicious your fare.
Together, then, praise the Lord, bless his name,
Who has marked you with so much distinction and beauty.
O creative force present to nature, O glory not hidden
From creatures, though transcending our senses!
Sylvan hearts respond to the voice of humans
and are gladly mild for the servant of their Maker.
Since he himself is his Creator's perfect subject.
Every creature bows before him: there's none that's deaf
To word of his, who always the divine voice obeys.
A discernment human comes upon the birds: you would think
They could tell with minds whatever he bade them do.
Of divers kinds are they, yet all one song they sing;
Or as one and with one accord mounting up the sky,
They melodiously praise the name of God, in the way
That nature gave them; the air is loud with the chorus
Re-echoed by the hills, resounding in the woods.
Delighted with their signing more than with harp or lyre.
And skywards raising his hands for joy, Francis move
In among the birds, still singing on both sides of him,
Remaining still and allowing themselves to be handled,
And he loves to touch them with the hem of his long tunic.
And then he blesses and with dulcet voice gives them leave to go.
Free to depart they rise, their legs kicking back the ground,
And convey their soaring bodies on poised wings. (Saint, 488-90)
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