ode to Hoopoes
Must be a bird, to fathom a prodigy
Mundane eyes do not often look up, high up to find any silhouettes anymore.
They do not often chill out with the loneliest kite
Soaring high with the tilted sun, a day is touched in deep around the eve
After Nemo is served, you may strum along your new thriller, blessed by Steve.
Any chapter that travels with you, sits there for a while
keeps you warm underneath the blanket, to fix a slip, meanwhile.
Puffins and Parakeets
Starlings and Sparrows
Hummingbirds and Hoopoes
Cardinals and Cochoas
Their colors flashing
Songs edifying
Perching and resting
or airborne flying
They trill us and thrill us at night
Wing their way through the day
Soaring high in tranquil blue skies
or huddling in trees when it rains
Indigenous Americans, their feathers treasure
These frequent flyers give man such great pleasure
Wie leuchtendes Meer
Die wehenden Baumwollfelder im Wind
Weisses Gold in der Sonne
Im der Nähe wie kleine Zebras
Suchen einige Wiedehopfe Futter
------------------------------------------------
Like a brilliant sea
Waving Cotton fields in the wind
White gold in the sun
In the vicinity like small zebras
Some hoopoes looking for food
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Como un mar brillante
Ondean los campos de algodón en el viento
Oro blanco en el sol
En los alrededores como pequeñas cebras
Algunas abubillas buscando alimento
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