A private bird in many ways; loves the night and shuns the days.
Has huge eyes with super sight; has no need for daytime light.
A nocturnal bird only heard when you lay your head to sleep,
As you squirm and toss and turn he’ll have you counting sheep.
When you awake he’s gone to sleep in some secluded hole,
Then once more when sun has set, he re-assumes his role.
You may think he doesn’t care but your thoughts are moot,
For deep down within this wise bird; he really gives a hoot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem