Sing little Sparrow;
Sing till Winter's dead-
Life is short or long, little Sparrow,
But happier without dread.
Sing little Sparrow,
Till the winds have gone away-
It doesn't take a full grown gale,
To speed you on your way.
Sing little Sparrow;
Fasten all your heart upon it-
Till Winter takes his aged face
And Spring puts on her bonnet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem