Dance Oh ye little bird-
Though your wings are marred
From these shots in the deep were heard;
Too many hunters your flight barred.
Dance oh ye little bird-
Rise up and give it a fresh start;
No wrong with being second or even third.
They killed you yet still beating is your heart.
Dance oh ye little bird-
Dance and dance and never stop;
Too long have you the soil stirred,
Yet one day you will harvest the crop.
Dance oh ye little bird- … Dance…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem