The chubby bird on my kid's belt buckle
wants to sing about what he sees:
the bend of the river, flowing this a-way.
Doesn't he have ideas, then? O yes,
the best ideas! But dickey says them you don't sing.
So
But
Take a ho thing bo thing in your bold clasp
ho point bo point bird's tail the waveys
form a light stream flat on the beak
form storm streams in the bird bill
cut the proper light the reeds
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem