The Last Dance Of The Sparrows Poem by Noel Tupan

Slowly, I rise up from bed,
Heard the cheerful note of the sparrows,
Weaving their nest in the nearby tree,
While the house-birds frolic on the roof.

The colored white, black, and golden brown,
So lovely as they dance on the tree,
A rare magnificent view,
Yet, so common in the country.

I rest at night not a slumber,
So calm as I sleep tight,
Dreaming of tomorrow’s sight,
The sparrows in their morning dance.

Not an ordinary morning when I rise,
Greeted by a deafening silence,
No cheerful note of the sparrows,
Nor house-birds frolic on the roof.

There I saw the woody plant,
Lying on the earth so flatly,
Depriving the birds of their shelter,
Leaving the vertebrates in disarray.

The captivating sight of nature,
The exquisite dance of tiny creatures,
The cheery mood brought by its cheerful notes,
Had gone away, it's gone away.

Never would I see the sparrows again,
Never would I witness its lovely dance,
Never would I be hopeful of a beautiful morning,
Never would I see again the sparrows' dance.

(03/25/2010, Leyte)