Poor canary.

A tiny bird nods
and sings a little song for you.
I'm done, I just have to put on my shoes,
and then I'll go to show my loyalty to you in simple work;

My lips are unaccustomed to uttering difficult words, and my hands are too thin to hold a fist.

I always see you in the faces of schoolchildren,
in the eyes of patient women,
in the hardened palms of street workers;

We've become friends with reality, secretly loving you.
One day, I'll do something so that you didn't give birth to me in vain.
A rooster stands erect and calls out a greeting to you; I imagine a flag fluttering in its wings.

I go to work, conquering boredom,
destroying doubt,
and building stone by stone of steadfastness, a fortress of your independence with every sunrise. O child of the glorious age,
let me look to the East to remember you.

faces full of school children glistening,
the women light the fire,
and in the palms of steadfast men.

the crystals of lies, betrayal and pretense have been destroyed.
greet the little child;
feels right: I am none other than yours.

but little birds like to fly outside to find true love.

I'm late in your sleep I don't feel like my time is lost in my eyes..
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