It is incumbent on the bird,
sum and esse,
to swoop and search,
for crust and crumb,
and lodging in a rented tree,
sit upon the branch,
its beak poised and rested.
In the forest it will sing,
over the garden it will swoop and
swirling, duck and dive,
and flap its wings
upon the water trough,
its bathing done.
We too, its apex
of created line,
will duck and dive
for crusted crumb
and flapping wings
make our way
to the leafy armchair
on the forest bough
our rented lodging.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem