His wheezy sort of a song that one could never mistake
A slumbering memory in me does awake
The song of a green finch bring me back moments of joy
Of Spring in the leafy groves of Lisnaboy
Somewhere camouflaged in the greenery of the cypress tree
I know him by his voice though him i cannot see
With some dark gray on his tail and wings and mostly palish green
Among Nature's greenery birds not easily seen
Their nest small and open cup shaped lined with hair four to six palish green eggs they do lay
On a tree branch or hidden in bushes in the North lands in May
In south east Australia they breed in late October and November in Spring
And to proclaim his borders the male bird does sing
The song of the green finch takes me to places far away
When in my dark brown hair there was not any gray
And though in memory i often re-visit old places again
That is all of the past with me that does remain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem