Bird Poem by Vera Sidhwa
Bird
A bird in the hand
Was not worth two in the bush.
That free bird slanting,
With wings outstretched.
Was worth the dazzle of the sunny day.
I've always watched that bird,
Hopping happy on his legs.
I've always happily,
Listened to him tweet.
That bird, those birds,
Happy as they sound.
I like them to be around,
My house, my home.
Decorating it with their birdsong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/10/2024 8:20:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
if a flower stays on the twig rather than the vase, and a bird is seen hopping happily on his legs around our house rather than the cage... only then we are justified in calling us humanbeings! ! ! nice poem! ! !