Migratory Soul Poem by Harun Al Nasif

I am also a bird, a red-crested rooster.
I do have wings, but not to fly.
They are just for flapping.
Even if I can't chant a song in tune,
I don't miss a chance
to crane out my neck in an urge to sing
cock-a-doodle-doo in a mellow tone.
But as I haven't learnt to build a nest,
I have made it my wont
not to live on the branch of a tree,
but in a coop.
I ain't a migratory bird having wings
blessed with never-ending stamina
and not an itinerant one.
Yet you know, O migrant bird of the Wood,
My soul flies across the Pacific in a wink.