the eagle of the swamp
always follows me
to tell me of the day
my soul will be set free
he is my spirit guide
whispering with his cry
one life is all he needs
he's not afraid to die
he finds a mate in spring
the nestlings fly by fall
a feather falls to ground
and so it is for all
but with the winter past
the fledglings in refrain
will give his spirit wings
and then he soars again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem