You fertile the soil
And the tree grows well.
Fruits ripe and smell
The wingless unkind human birds in thrill.
They taste the fruits and saliva spill
Afterward throw the seeds ill will.
And the human dignity go through the mill.
* If this rare bird could fly?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your powerful last line says it all. I am fascinated by your rhymes. Take care. Always your friend, Sandra