Two birds perched in a tree, branches bare because winter
has not yet left.
Preening and primping, shaking from the cold and rainy
atmosphere.
Raindrops falling upon them, washing their feathers and
wetting them thoroughly.
Heaven sent, rain water spent on cleaning earth in a much
purer atmosphere has also cleansed these two birds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem