Awaken to birds mating in the morn
In antiphonal singing in the spring,
And even though you be the most forlorn,
Remember that it is for you they sing.
Each flower, face, and voice opens for you,
And every word you read, or picture see.
For you, the world would any service do;
For you, the entire world was brought to be.
Yet, painted ladies slap the Maker's face;
He is ignored by men so sleek and strong.
An Orphan made by His own human race,
Everyone's an orphan in the throng.
O, seek the One Whose very face is peace,
For peace from Him will never, ever cease.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
every bird is a miracle to sing in your work