Midway in its flight
the bird burst into a song,
something to say,
which couldn't wait for a perch.
With what delight,
the pigeons practice their flight
from one window ledge to another
and then back again
Now and then,
You must long for your old nest
in the deep mountains -
I too have,
memories of the past.
Oh big bird,
ruler of the skies,
what could frighten you?
that you build your nests
high up in the mountains,
deep in the crevice.
It is not that
I never mix
with men of this world -
but really I'd rather,
amuse myself alone.
Showing their faces
showing their backsides
the autumn leaves fall.
Though travels,
take me to
a different stopping place each night,
the dream I deram is always
the same one of home.
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