I do not know their name
But they are my guest always
At every monsoon
Soon after the first shower falls
They will appear
My unknown guests, two tiny birds
Carrying pasty mud
From plowed paddy fields
They will make a beautiful nest
On the wooden ceiling of my house
No one here to disturb them
When the monsoon become weak
They will fly with new born chicks
May has died and June born today
I am eagerly waiting
To hear the bugle of thunder
Giving a warm welcome to the monsoon
And my unknown guests.
The culture of a country and its people will be understood from the way it and they love its birds and animals. Your guests are welcome to be guests of all of us. A very fine write Mr Jayan.
The pleasure of the company of these unknown guests is important even more than knowing their names...to hail them in the name of God is suggestive of goodness...enough celebration it is... the poem is a light composition according to the subject encompassing the phenomenon of migratory birds...in the season..may has died and june born today! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
as birds sit on my window sill it is a sign of spring is coming a welcome. a lovely write