the mother sparrow does not
know about a funeral
how can it hold a white flower
entertain meaning
using its black, short beak?
today, her young sparrow
lies dead
shattered wings, severed feathers
the worker-ants are sensing the scent of blood
the delicacy of sparrow meat
and now carry them all toward their
queen
underground
there is no memory for mother sparrows
there is no son
the fledgling is gone, gone
then she flies far away
to another season
not carrying anything, not a seed even inside her gut
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Rest in peace! ! ! beautiful write.