I took the old nests away
When the days were cold and dark,
But you came back another day
For the lighting of new sparks;
Then high swooned the sun
Over your tidy home,
Hard the work done
In that leafy dome;
Instinctively, without thought
Without fear of tomorrow,
Nothing stolen, nothing bought
No great pools of sorrow;
A receptacle, a loving well
To bring on life anew
For a feathered breast to swell
And sing a new song to you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem