What I admire about birds is that I can’t be sure of what they’re saying, though I know it’s some sort of truth. Fish on the other hand belong to the community of silence, the complete opposite of birds; fish know when to keep their mouths shut.
As well as being a person a poet is half bird and half fish. Which half is which, which half predominates, for one half will always win against the other, can be heard in the poets’ song and seen in the poets’ silence. The poet who endeavors to write the smallest poem possible and the poet who endeavors to write an epic have ambitions that are commensurately large and small: neither ambition is greater or lesser than the other, though each is ambitious.
Both bird and fish, the real poet, were he or she a poet, takes the time necessary not to write, and instead sits completely still looking up at the sky and down through the water.