A novice attempt to translate my own poem from Punjabi.
Please be nice.
Daily, it’s a new flight,
knowing,
at dusk
the return is inevitable
to the same nest And on return,
the squabble
over building the nest
on a higher branch
Still, they return,
perhaps the excitement
of meeting the fledgling
pulls them back,
day after day.
But today,
there is a turmoil around the nest;
birds are lamenting,
screaming,
and cursing the falcon race,
and the fledgling
is nowhere to be seen.
Tomorrow,
it will again be a new flight
and on return,
the same squabble
"Had the nest been on a higher branch."
-kaliadevansh
