The mother was trying to give
The lessons of flying in the air
Crossings of rivers and seas
The little crow a clever one
Every minute points it studied well
The mother said a little slow my dear
Not too heights, not to too down
Follow my wings with your little body
Care yourself unless it will be danger
Little one proud itself and boasted
I have learnt, I can, and in heights
Alas! after a while from heights
Only the life breath was there
The wings were hurt and nearing death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem