I hear the birds
I'll touch thier wings
They'll start to churp as I sing
Jumping up as I stomp my feet
Climbing up the tree
Where I'll see the little ones
They'll leave thier mom
to fly towards the guns
Although what they don't know is they will get hurt
fly down to the ground with thier face in the dirt
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem