As I try to devour your words,
absorb and glean,
often I hear you irate and scream....
The chill throttles the grotesque magpie
that perching despairs, yet refuses to fly....
You caress, fleece or ruffle its feathers,
the magpie is born for uncouth weathers,
Threatened, yet not uttering a threat,
it's ready to perish,
but would never migrate!
great poem beautiful work Threatened, yet not uttering a threat, it's ready to perish, but would never migrate! peace jibin
a beautiful poem... 'it's ready to perish, but would never migrate! ' i guess this poem works on 2 levels...surface n deep... Asma...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a ' die hard' made out of Magpie; great poem Shivapriya