During the spring, they used to come
And I used to find them
Sitting over
The hills and the crags,
The leafless cotton trees
But in bloom,
Perched on the boughs and twigs,
The big-big birds,
A few unable to fly,
perhaps it was the symptom
Which grew in more
And took a heavy toll.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem