Up in the hills,
I was born in a nest, On a tree.
Like lilies and roses,
Nature was my home and I was free.
I was born pretty, my feathers white,
My lovely mother taught me my first flight.
Days passed, I flew great unseen earthly height,
Nothing stopped me nor did I have a stoplight.
I stared at the fields of corn,
Every glimpse by the grace of the glorious sun.
I stared at the countless stars,
Every sparkle by the grace of the charming moon.
Dark nights or a sunny day,
I always loved to fly away.
Never wondered I would see,
Human tears like a vast sea.
For poets, I am a synonym of beauty,
Their lines make me feel, I'm pretty.
For me, Human life is such a pity,
Gods to end it, need to do endless charity.
I am the symbol of peace to end every war,
Up in the sky, I felt my elegant power,
Peace you are so precious.
Are you hidden in any fortress? .
Life was all merry,
Never did I feel for myself, sorry.
Until one day I woke up,
In a hunters cage, locked up.
My eyes so tiny could see many colors of love,
Rhyming to love is my name, I'm called a dove.
Seasons passed and days rolled,
I saw tearful lives end unknown, stories untold.
I never knew my end, my merciless end.
They laid me to rest, without a tear shed.
My white feathers soaked in blood.
My white feathers turned red,
My white feathers turned red.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem