The Claire bird sings its own sweet song
and flies above the throng in view
then it turns right, and not so wrong.
The Claire bird sings its own sweet song
and frowns because its down too long
on ground. It's gem-like orbed as new.
The Claire bird sings its own sweet song
and flies above the throng in view.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem