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Bird-Related Poems |

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I have collected these poems
from around the web, authors are un-known unless otherwise
noted.
"Mother Parrot's Advice to her
Children"
Never get up till the sun
gets up, Or the mists will give you a cold, And a parrot whose lungs have
once been touched Will never live to be old. Never eat plums that are
not quite ripe, For perhaps they will give you a pain: And never dispute
what the hornbill says, Or you'll never dispute again. Never despise the
power of speech: Learn every word as it comes, For this is the pride of
the parrot race, That it speaks in a thousand tongues. Never stay up when the
sun goes down, But sleep in your own home bed, And if you've been good, as
a parrot should, You will dream that your tail is red.
Ganda, Africa Translated by A.K.
Nyabongo

"Plight of the
Parrot"
The rain forest where we once lived Was lush and thick and
green. The trees, they reached into the sky Like none that most have
seen
And in the tree's a hollow spot Is where we both would go,
For in the hollow, we would lay Our eggs as white as
snow.
The forest it had plenty Of food for us to eat And water
holes where animals Would play and swim and meet.
One day as I was in my log I heard a awful sound, I flew
out to the lookout branch To see what lurked around.
A
human with his nets and gloves, Machete and a sack, Had come to steal
our chicks from us, Oh how I want them back.
And when he took our little chicks I heard a piercing cry,
He dropped my chick from up above, I had to watch him
die.
And when he left, we went to see Our hollow and our nest
Our family was gone you see, Our place where we would
rest
The village men he walked for miles Through forest thick and
green, The babies cried inside the bag, It hurt to hear them
scream.
Into the village with the bag The merchants came to see,
When opened up a single chick is all that there would
be.
On the bottom lay my chick, His body limp and frail, His
eyes sunk in, his wrinkled skin, no longer would he
wail.
The thunders coming closer The tree shakes from the ground,
Branches flying everywhere Our home is falling down.
I
fly away and then I see My mate is no where near I search above the tree
tops no calls for me to hear.
And on the ground my lifelong mate Lies still as still can
be, And we will never mate again And never will be
three.
And all the trees where we once lived are gone forever now,
For roads and pastures take their place And ranchers with their
cows.
Our food supply has dwindled our water hole is gone, No
place to rest my tired wings Dear mate it wont be long
Soon you will not see us In the forest if you look, The
library is where we'll be inside a picture book.
So wont you tell you children of the parrots you once knew, and
rest your head at night with ease, Knowing, you did all that you could
do.
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