By April Grant (c) 2021
(1st verse, then repeated as chorus:)
Sweetly I sing in September
Of darkness, my joy and delight.
Remember, O human, remember,
To live like a cricket at night.
The nights will grow longer and longer,
My voice will be sweetest of all.
O human, if you would grow stronger,
Then live like a cricket in fall.
My mate hears me cheering and calling,
My wings raising praises on high.
When the deep dusk of autumn is falling,
The mightiest cricket am I.
Let all who have legs hush and listen,
I sing in my crab-apple tree;
The plates of my black armor glisten;
‘Tis joy, O, ’tis joy to be me.
Written for my father.