Was sitting on a tree branch, looking down
Saw a beautiful little girl, wearing a gown
Held a barbie, brought from the nearby town
She wore a lovely smile, her hair was brown
So adorable, could not take my eyes off her
Blinked her eyes at me, the face looked familiar
Her speech was unclear, attempted to decipher
Wait! had heard it before, I tried to remember
Her mannerisms reminded me of my little son
Curious I was, flew down, for a closer look on
Something came my way, a very big stone
Now a Crow, couldn't tell him, I am your own
You offered me food, you called me in here
Now stones to scare me off, for my life I fear
I know son, you, a protective dad, she very dear
Lucky me, can see you at will, I live very near
Sree....
In Hindu religion every year on the death anniversary of parents, a ritual is performed by all their sons and daughter to offer rice bowls to the departed souls and believe if crow (totally black no grey shade) consumes the food, it is accepted by the parents.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I live very near, great write, good one