Listen, coo coo coo
Listen, coo coo coo
Again coo coo coo.
Surely it is the spring
Here is the cuckoo
At out door.
It is on the words
We walk.
It is on the sight
We talk.
Here is our beauty
Our pleasure
And we are blooming
Afresh here.
We embrace us
We are our boss.
No voice choked up
We hold on that are ours.
Our love our trust
Our relations that are ours.
And we smile see
With delight here.
We forgot not anything
We are for us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem