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January hushers in the shivering coldness
as feathery snowflakes descend on roads
over the steep ridge which abruptly plunges 
into a foamy sea and their whiteness glistens
into the blue lake without the presence of ducks;
stillness is found in space and also amid boulders! 

The poor hummingbird searches everywhere for his mate,
who has gone for days looking for soft cotton
for the pricky nest made of boughs he found last spring;
ah, the hunter shot him in the left wing thinking
he was an intruder...he fell nearby the tranquil lake,
and it's hard for him to reach home anytime soon!
Ah, he often comforted a solitary beagle with a fur of brown
confined to a cage in a room of gloominess and dire feeling!

They both miss each other's company in lonely moments
and can't escape the bitter cold that has brought in
winter before its due time, how delightful was Autumn
when they watched together the undulating auburn leaves!

Soon trees will be bare and turn unto ugly and eerie skeletons,
showing their misery and go into lethargy;
can the unhappy hummingbird wait any longer,
many don't return from their dangerous journey  
and could the same inevitable, fatal fate
be anticipated for his adored and lost mate?
How will she spend her nights and not express anger?
Do birds mourn the loss of whom reminds them of glittering skies?

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