No big deal.
Make room for the fresh and new.
All things must pass.
Sooner or late,
everything is overdue.
However,
the sky is the host
of the bird’s last flight
against the background
of a strange light.
I guess it’s part of the show.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The sky is the host! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.