Gentle, Quiet, and covered with Soft Plume.
Oh Baby Bird. Your fragile wings shudder
From the Frigid Breath of Morning's Song.
Rhythmic hungry Chirps Echo so Silently.
Bold Eyes that slowly open with curious
Attention, are filled with slow Anticipation.
Your Ivory-toned Beak opens Greedily.
Sudden satisfaction Greet infant Wantings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem