one day
you get tired
mimicking the
mynah bird
you only want
it to know your language
and to bait it
with your own style
you mimic it but it does not
learn from your
mimicking and you stop and one day
it looks at you
with pity and it speaks its own language
from the forest, which is
if you listen well enough
sad and lonely
and even dying
it speaks of a desire to be returned
to its own place
it is drawing to you a forest
a dark spot,
a hounding sound of its
niche
one day you
see the light of its night song
a red moon
a drift on the black marsh
and so you take it
and release it from your mimicry
and both of you
are finally free
and the forest is
one happy family
and the cage of your expectations
becomes empty
life has arrived returning back
your own tongue
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem