I've seen it,
Saw it as I loitered
Amongst these birds upon a low branch.
With it they crippled, twisted and tainted.
They floundered,
Betwixt by leaves of dying trees.
Not to bloom again.
Forget a return.
They're down now,
With others,
Gutted specimens.
A job well done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem