Old Men Feed The Birds

color photo


In all the parks in all the world

The old men sit

And feed the birds.

The old men sit

At noon and dawn

For they well know

They will be gone.

But all the birds

In all the world

Will still sing out

To raise the sun,

Will still loud sing

To set the moon.

To welcome leaves

When comes the Spring.

They bid farewell

When winters blow,

They range the sky.

To poles they go

To know the Earth

In part and whole

Across the continents they fly.

And so, with grain,

With crumbs of bread,

Men fight the force

That makes things dead.

So life may soar

Nor all things fall

Men give their bread

As gifts to all.

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