A bird is flying amply in woods.
A bird is singing gaily in woods.
A bird is living happily in woods.
Those are gleeful days of a bird.
Flying amply it falls in pure love.
Singing gaily it gabs to its love.
Living happily it deems it got love.
These are cuddly days of a bird.
Pure love doubts on it’s amply fall.
Pure love giggles on it’s gaily gabs.
Pure love blames on its happy deems.
This is that woeful day of a bird.
It rested awfully with appal in love.
It cried badly with pain in love.
It lived sadly with hope in love.
These are painful days of a bird.
Its awful rest in love is faded.
Its painful cry in love is lost.
Its mad hope in love is ebbed.
These are mending days of a bird.
After that it never flied amply.
After that it never singed gaily.
After that it never lived happily.
After that it never loved again.
This is a bird’s tragic love story.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.