Crosswind Music

The Nightingale and The Rose

(Based on a short story by Oscar Wild)

Words & Music by Bryan Sirchio

Once there was a young student who loved a young woman so much

He asked her if she would accompany him to the ball

She told him, well, yes, he could take her—if he’d bring her a deep red rose

To match the new gown she just bought at the fashion mall

So the young man went out to the garden, but every last rose was white

He sat down and started to cry

And then a nightingale flew by

What’s wrong said the nightingale?

He said, “I can’t take my love to the ball”

‘Cause I need a red rose and all of these roses are white

So the nightingale talked to the bushes, and said, “My friend here needs a red rose”

And then one bush said, “Well, I do know of one way—a red rose could grow”

What’s that said the nightingale? And then the bush said this…

If you press against my sharpest thorn, and sing your sweetest song

And let your life’s blood flow into my vine

Then you’ll change my very nature

And my flower will instead, of being a white rose—it will turn to red

So the nightingale pressed against the thorn, and sang its most beautiful song

And as it sand out the flower began to change

But the redder that flower became, the soften the nightingale’s song

And in just a few moments the nightingale’s life was gone

In the morning the student returned to the garden and found the red rose

Then he cried out with joy and took the rose to his love and said come on

Let’s go dance at the ball!

But she said, “Oh—didn’t you know?

Another man’s asked me to go. And he brought me expensive jewels—

And everyone knows that jewels cost more than a rose

Then she tossed the rose in the road, where it was crushed by a passing coach

Then the student went back to his room, and said, I think I’ll take up philosophy

‘Cause it seems to me, philosophy is safer than love…

I offer no interpretations—my words would just get in the way

But if you don’t mind, I just need to say…

Precious Nightingale, your song is sweet to me

And I stand amazed at how you pressed against that thorn

And the rose you give this world is what I treasure most of all

And yes, I will go with you, to the ball