If you believe the sun is growing black
And sparrows flee the wind because they’re small
Than there is more that you have left to see
Beyond these walls.
But all birds fly because they hate the cold
And all the stars and suns are shining bright
And hearts are silent in the distant darkness
Of the night.
And still you say your heart is growing wise
Enough to buy all that it’s ever sold
Then I, this sparrow, am too small
And the sun is cold.
I am touched by what your sparrow had to say to the night. Beautiful work, Ben. Kind regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fine piece, so much thought...