I'm my little mate
the blackbird's burden
the other blackbirds
swoop him away from me
there's hardly any yellow left
in his beak
it looks like it has been pecked at repeatedly,
as he flies past
I see the feathers on his back
have been plucked to raw patches.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poem, Vince.............................
Thank you Bernard, your comment is greatly appreciated, wishing you a happy and prosperous New Year, Vince.