As I sit upon a hill
so very still
looking up at the sky
I see a bird fly
as it glides and veers
and only the breeze
whistling through the trees
it hears.
I see the sun die
as it goes to sleep
where the sky an earth both meet.
I see too the clouds so high
making ghostly figures in the sky.
I see also the shadows on the ground
blackening things all around.
Darkness is creeping in now
as small creatures find shelter somehow,
the night now is near
and only an owl can one hear
as he searches and searches
for food through the night.
Date unknown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Funny how some eat during light and others at night.