One September day I blessedly observed;
The most eloquent song needing not one word.
A melody so sorrowfully sang;
It caused my heart to swell with an acute pang.
From my window I was remarkably impressed-
By one little blue feathered bird crooning from a nest.
Lovers seldom have a way of making themselves heard.
But no song is ever sung like that of a lonely bird.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poem, short and poignant. Humankind in amorous distress often can hear and understand the cravings of birdsfolk, as you did. Men (and I include women too) and birds mourn alike, when love is lost, as they sing in delight, when they find their love.