A Small Bird Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

he sat alone under the oak and he cried
from longing for the elapsed time
a long time ago and irremediably.

he wanted to fly as the bird,
but he was already too heavy for ascents.
he knew, how ached the fall.

and then saw the fairy godmother...
arrived straight from the outer space.
tapped him on the head, by silver wand

dust fell off like sparks from the bonfire.
she looked at him and she said:
you will be a poet of one topic.

because, you more will invent nothing...
on the back of other, you will always jump up,
a bit higher, a bit higher... a bit higher...

and it is just about it, in order to you,
soothe your nerves. and you satisfied lust,
at least on that subject matter. and believe me
aura how it is a weather,
not only for you isn't kind...
worry better about your bird.

perhaps it to turn out that
it is not a skylark... and eagle?
or rather a small pigeon, but not of peace....