In the deep quiet of the night, birds sing their lonely
call, echoing about the midnight air, sending messages
to all who care.
Listening, silently, hearing the loneliness ring out
into the blackened air, bouncing off of clouds, banging
into shadows there on the ground.
Wallowing away the hours before dawn, birds cry out their
lonely songs, chirping hesitantly for those who have died,
their hearts cry out in the midnight sky.
Awaiting an answering call, they stop their singing for a
minute, when hearing no reply, they start to sing again.
Melodies known only to themselves, send out their sadness
to all who hear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well... very interesting imagination of birds' call. It's a melancholy poem and depressive in a certain way. But I liked your style of writing. Nice lines!