The Lame Bird

Sitting on the wire she glooms and alone

‘Down forth’ all beckon,

‘Bits of bread are there

Pick up lest the other demands share’.

The lame bird flaps in the air

Rolling down from her breast a white feather,

Pecking a bit with a sense

The escorts saving by defence.

A hunter hits like the lightning from the blue

None finds out yet its clue,

Concreted blood splitting and dog's spittle

Absence of delay makes her utmost brittle,

The barking dogs in the narrow city

Whose have with her no affinity,

All green leaves fall apart upon ground

All is for love beyond of bound,

Odium! Odium! to the merciless beings

The supreme creatures for whom so long she sings.