1. |
Don't Berate a Cicada
03:02
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Don't Berate a Cicada
(c) 2021 Sue Fink
Don’t berate a cicada
For singing so loud
He doesn’t have long
To belt out his song, and he’s
Tryin’ to stand out in the crowd
He wants a lady cicada
Or maybe two or three (or four, or five, or…)
With his loud buzzing act
He does his best to attract
The ones with whom he’s meant to be
Most of his life he spends under the ground
Single and lonely, he makes not a sound
One day he chooses to burst from the earth
Sheds his old skin: literal rebirth…
Ameliorated cicada
Now he’s the best he can be
So he rattles his tymbal,
Sounds just like a cymbal
As he flies around from tree to tree
Appreciate a cicada
He’s got no time to wait-a
He knows his days are numbered,
He’s here for one brief summer
So he can’t be a procrastinata
Cicadas have more than two eyes (they have five!)
Arrive in great numbers so most will survive
Some lose their lives to predator satiation
The rest sing and mate for the briefest vacation…
See ya lata, cicada
I’m gonna miss your sound
Well, I hope you had fun, hope that
You found someone, that your
Nymphs make their way underground
See ya lata, cicada
Thanks for the music you made
Now as night falls before us
I’m listening to the chorus of the
Cricket choir serenade!
Yeah, as night falls before us
I’m listening to the chorus of the
Cricket choir serenade!
See ya lata, cicada (see ya lata, cicada)
See ya lata, cicada (see ya lata, cicada)
See ya lata… cicada…
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2. |
Hymn of the Cicada
03:46
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Hymn of the Cicada
(c) 2021 Sue Fink
For seventeen years
I stayed underground
Safe in the soil, just
Digging around
A brown-colored nymph,
I toiled and I slept
Thought no deep thoughts
Neither laughed nor I wept
’Til one day I felt
Compelled to seek sky:
I burrowed straight up,
Can’t say I knew why
I climbed up a tree trunk,
Drank in the sun’s light
Felt myself burst from my
Skin, now too tight
How I clung to that old skin,
All else new and strange
Eyes red with wonder
I felt myself change
Cicada, cicada, cicada…
Goodbye to the old,
With wings I now fly
Sisters and brothers, let’s
Sing ’til we die
Let’s sing summer’s waning
Of love and of mating
Let’s drink every dew drop
There’s no time for waiting
Let’s sing of green glory
Let’s praise the day’s beauty
Let’s waken the world
It’s our sacred duty
(Sisters & brothers, let’s sing ’til we die
Sisters and brothers, let’s sing…)
Forty days if I’m lucky
Before I am gone
Forty brief days to
Sing out my song
So much of this world
I never will see, but I’m
Too rapt with wonder
By this single tree
This glorious tree, given to me
So I sing
(Sing ’til we die)
[“Cicada Choir”]
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Sue Fink Chicago, Illinois
Chicago-based singer-songwriter Sue Fink enchants audiences with her whimsical perspective on the world. Her genre, “urban campfire cabaret,” is folk with a hint of jazz, a large dollop of humor, and a drop of sadness for good measure: think Christine Lavin, with a dash of Rickie Lee Jones, Melanie, and Nellie McKay. ... more
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