As a dark August went by without much fanfare,
And a bright September stepped in demure,
I was blessed to have a sacred start,
Each day with bird songs
As I woke up to a new dawn,
I hear on an early September morn,
The harbinger of good luck,
Singing gluck, gluck, gluck…
A cloudy sky,
Brief spells of shower,
With mercury touching 30 degree Celsius,
That's what the weather forecast had to say,
Heaven-sent, it is a bright sunny day
For my birdie to play
In my garden
Hopping from one bough to the other,
Like a trapeze artiste,
Sometimes relaxing
On my coconut and jackfruit
Sometimes singing
On my mahogany and mango,
While at times performing
On my wood apple
I see it,
Fluttering its copper-brown wings,
In the September sun
With eyes like little red cherries,
And a black pepper in the centre,
Searching for insects on my gooseberry,
A gentleman-like gait with a dark brown coat,
Foot by foot,
Your calls are loud and distinct,
Note by note,
The morning air echoes,
With sonorous calls
Gluck, gluck, gluck…
Perched on the branches
Of wind-swept fronds,
Without any flocks,
You walk alone,
Engaged in your work,
I am fortunate and blessed,
To savour these kind nature's favours,
And to have you
Here in my little backyard!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem