She let out her lips for a low whistle,
Peering through the glass of window, I was about to startle-
She began to sing so beautifully-
my eyes started watering immediately.
She had a beautifully crafted red ponytail,
And her neck was half rotating-
with the touch of small yellow tail.
She made a temporary halt on my window pane,
And with the hiss of air and slight rain-
she felt the sudden joy of atmosphere-
with which she found the proper rhythm of sweet and rare.
With the bombshell of a thunder-
she disappeared and I found her nowhere.
With the quick storm, the window pane buzzed loudly,
And suddenly I felt being deprived of that whistle which was so lovely!
Next morning, I realized some melody missing-
I walked to the centre of the road with a hold of nervous breathing,
She laid in a corner beneath a tree-
Feathers from her wings were scattered and I sat down on my knee-
My heart was breaking,
Now she had no voice to sing,
The sudden storm made her death inevitable-
I took her body for the peace of grave -
It was my sole gift to her for the voice of incredible.