Oh, how alone the little birds must feel right at the edge!
Having to make that salient leap for the first time;
having to let go and then flap and flap incessantly,
until something works out and you begin to soar.
A little bird is nudged out, pushed out by the nest
with strict instructions for every blooming moment
that its unskilled wings can expect to encounter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem