The wind bends and shakes the trees
The birds re-act in differing ways
On the Pine the crow with pointed beak
Guards the tree whilst below his companions
Like two sentinels stomp and march around
The starlings like old fruit left on the tree
Fill its branches waiting for the wind to call
Dispersing them in one gigantic flurry.
The collar doves fastidiously peck the drive
The Crow remains aloof master of all he sees
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem