It must be very hard on her
the bird she cared deeply loved
has found a new pasture.
but be my dear once a bird
grow on you a wing
know the ache hurts so hard
when stuck within iron ring!
tended well fed the best
the wings still must try
still must deem it a complete waste
times spent flightlessly dry!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem