Million truth birds in a forest,
With skied –wings in rest,
Were covered with a magician’s nest.
There was only one hole,
Escaping began to roll,
As per one’s worth,
Flight had its mirth,
An old bachelor in the queue ,
Preferred the truth of the forest,
Heavy wings, -earth is the best!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem