That there is no bird in the in the text
written on a bird
You need not feel amazed.
For our need
Eyeing the sky
the entire place had assembled there
I created the night with light
And light with night.
I created the sea with smoke and hill with water
When walking on the plain of grass
Passing beyond the hilltop,
The rain started to drizzle over the tree
That stands only in his story.
It is a bird that was most used up
Yet, it is still not damaged and in good condition
As though it is drawn and drawn
He would have been willing
To take me into arena of his poetry
Visited, alas! nothing seen, it was empty
when words are opened.
There is no inhalation here
Now and then air would come this way
but would at once be chased away
The words crawled like crabs
On one half of the paper, the letter was drafted
And the sea on the other.
for the crack of dawn
of an expired day.
bygones can never be brought back!