Crow, crow
as power goes
you shall be the one
to punctuate the clean, white snow
on a stormy night.
Ink does on paper, a familiar job.
Crow, crow
as weight goes
you have an unheavy load
stress free
you carry thee
as you fly away.
Crow, crow
the time goes
it's irrelevant when in the sky
soar up there, through the air
a token of surprise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem