As peach is in bloom, the apricot glows,
Spring is announced by where the brown guy goes.
He and his mate don’t notice me in the chair,
As they gather their sticks and bring joy to the air.
They excitedly chant as their spring home grows,
Garnered with some strings and occasional bows.
Nothing is more exciting as we watch them for hours.
They’re wondrous and magic with majestic powers.
How lucky we are they chose our yard for their brood.
Sighs of these brown guys are spring’s joyous mood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem