My bird is trembling in my hands.
It likes my food, it likes my warmth;
But wants to fly to its own nest,
To be back home, to stay with rest.
I know my bird, I've learned it well,
I've had short life with it. I've dwelled
In joy and light, and love with it.
It wants to fly. I wish the best
To bird of mine. I love it, so
I set it free.
Fly safe, fly high
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem