This turkey calls Mexico home,
More specific, the Yucatan.
Fast in my flight and foot I roam.
So try to catch me if you can.
An ocellated turkey is
How you humans refer to me.
'Eyes' are on my feathers, gee whiz,
As far as I know, they can't see.
I guess quite colorful I am,
And use this in my mating game.
In sight and sound I act the ham,
Cuz instinct tells me that's the aim.
Called bird of a pretty feather,
I show off to get together.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem