The Playful Birds
The birds come and sit on
My hands and pick up rice grains
They beat their wings and chirp
Aloud turning to me their little brains
The birds are of many colors
Black, blue, yellow and white
They have eyes like bead of pearls
And they shine in the morning light
The birds are always happy
And gay and in a playful mood
I wait for them in the early hours
Of the day to feel fresh and good
They fly away towards the
Fields to return when it is dark
Wish I could keep them all the
Time If I were free from my work
Poet Panda, you are indeed so very fortunate to have such a great rapport and communication with these colourful birds. Gerard Kerouac was so saintly and cried because he didn't have what you have. Astonishingly beautiful poem! A joy to read!
Nice wish to be with colourful birds indeed! Nice desire is well expressed here!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Enjoyable piece of poem.enjoy dear poet.