I See, I Cry for My Bird

By Sam Exner

A flutter of colorful wing,

I see them fly outside. Is it finally time?

Is it now finally spring?

Now, don’t be so shy, do not hide behind vine.

Every morning in the cold, bitter winter air,

I yearn to hear your beautiful song,

At times, I thought it unfair,

For how time has slowly passed, how it has been so long.

As the snow and ice melt at the burning sun,

Greenery and scenery now in early bloom,

Now that you have returned to me, life now will feel less glum.

I hear you sing, I see you flutter, from my room,

Oh, sweet bird, please do not fly away,

I cry these words that I didn't mean to give you a fright!

Will you come back another day?

At the early morning light?

Stay away from the hunter's bullet, my friend

As winter goes, spring comes, but here comes another season,

I beg, please, do not let this be the end!

Useless bloodshed, justified by a single reason,

Every season, here they come, guns ablazing,

I ask that you try to live for me, my singing sorrow,

Isn’t your bittersweet life amazing?

Please, my sweet, come tomorrow!

But, silly me, I waited for you,

I sat by the window, open to hear your morning tune,

Yet as the light rose, shining its purple, pink, and orange hue

The frosty floral fume,

It filled my senses, not your usual melodious voice,

I see, I cry, I yearn, I beg to know, where is my bird?

You did not choose to be beautiful, 'twas not your choice,

I say goodbye to you now, the most lovely tune I ever heard.