Oh, how the cuckoo sings!
The eternal bliss in summertime it brings!
Enriches the days, tranquilises the spring,
As it trills around with its wings.
The crystal beads of rain infuse,
Petrichor and vibrant hues,
Embellishes the season of upright,
And the cuckoo takes a blithe flight.
Alas! The cuckoo is old and ailing,
Memories of such joy bid her smiling,
The fresh winds, lush green trees,
All in the past, now slaughtered for human ease!
Prerana Moolchandra
