The Bird that Could not Fly
It lay where the beige and the azure meet,
On the coast of a great big beach.
It lay so still, so still indeed,
Yet a flicker of movement could it reach.
This bird could not fly,
Even though it would try.
But it fluttered a bit,
And finally quit.
This bird has travelled from clouds to the sea.
It was hard to imagine that that could be,
But now it rolled over on it's wings,
And spread them hard that it couldn't do such things.
This bird finally strode through the beige of the sands.
It hopped and skipped at it's own strong command.
It's wind fluttered by it's own sheer will.
This bird was now flying.
Oh what a thrill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem