It was a sunny morning
and everyone was asleep,
but I was up thinking,
not making a peep.
My feathers were ruffled,
and my patients gone ‘way.
For I could not believe
it was Thanksgiving Day.
I packed all my things
and ran ‘round the bend.
Then I heard a gun shot
and that was the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem