THE ROAMING BIRD

THE ROAMING BIRD

Flew over mountains
Grew higher to spies
Spies in lost directions
I spoke to my sincere bird
And mounted to nearby heaven
My sincere bird lost direction.

The roaming bird, the lost bird
Flied over mountains down hill
Found fine flying valleys in vain
Looked left looked right and rose
To touch the blue sky for comfort rest
My flying bird lost direction in renegade.

Wind and waves welcomed bird warmly
My flying bird felt tired before the dawns
My flying bird felt coldness of snow falls
My flying bird lost a branch for perching
Swaying its wings like the rotating mortar
Looking down terribly from above higher.

My flying bird perched over sky in disguise
Trees, mountains were hidden in distance
Flying bird swallowed by snow and fainted
On skies it was lost, carrying heart hidden
Life was taken by  poor flying higher bird
Earth never knew the presence of my bird.