Sweet Swallow
A swallow escaped afar
from winter land, tundra-land
into my net it entered
beautiful, colorful it was
It could sing nice melodies
forked tail tickled my heart
I could dance and feel good
never in life had tasted such
The swallow felt good
I gave it seeds, fruits, juice
and watered it with honey
often we went to the bushes
I lay down and it perched on me
singing, dancing with the wind
But misfortune visited us
owner traced the little bird
got it but its heart flew away
my heart flew away too
and both hearts are nomads
in the dry water-less fields
both still yawn in waiting
for another chance- a come back
I cry out daily calling out;
“Sweet Swallow, where are you?”
and it calls back; “honey- pot,
where are you, where, where?”
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