Landing outside a hoopoe is on the lawn
drawn to the window where I am standing
demanding its hoopoe resounds at dawn,
showing off is plumes while wandering
with the orange and fawn colours glowing
with movements flowing somewhat strange
as if to arrange a gift of beauty on a wing
with its cry near to the mountain range
with perfect wit it flutters like a butterfly,
it passes by; stripes blazon the beauty of it,
perfectly it fit in the curious eye;
a stunning picture pecking bit by bit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem