At The Window
There's a beautiful bird at my window
Singing his rhythmic song neither fast or slow
As I gaze at him, I really don't know
When he leaves, where he will go
Then off he flies, up up into a tree
Is he singing his song, to entertain me?
Or does he sing his song, hoping she'll hear
Then with that song, draw her ever so near?
Ah, she has heard his song, sung only for her
Too much to ask, it be for this old sir
Will they stay together, up in that tree
And with me watching, raise a new family
Aw the joys of love and nature
Jim 2011
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I would like to translate this poem