(8-2-1945 / Gorakhpur)

A Bird I Would Like To Be

A bird that remains within the limits of earth,
a bird that attempts to fly in the skies,
fails, comes back after learning its worth,
smiles, and says, "See you again."
It tries again and again and again,
transfers his desire to fly to his intelligent descendants,
and they in an aircraft pay thanks to their ambitious ascendants.

Or a bird that can swim in the rivers and the seas
but it can neither fly, nor can dive nor it hunt.
With a wonder just it can have a look on the diving birds
Hunting a fish, going back, on a tall tree
"How cruel is this hunting! "
Oh You! The tallest trees!
Why you allow these cruel birds
to make a nest in your kind arms?
With tears in her eyes it rushes to a cute child
standing near a pool in the park
with a pack of popcorn in his soft hands

Or a friendly domestic bird living with the humans
as pets and laying eggs.
Mother still incubating the eggs,
but the father, leaving the bed, too early
a familiar voice awaking me,
annoying a little,
as I am dreaming ofa lady
in a blackish blue night gown
with millions of twinkling diamonds in it.
The naughty bird looks into my eyes
as if it wants to let me know
my fairy is roaming above
and is out of my reach.
But she has been incarnated as a lady
in a similar type of night gown
I don't know when, why and how
she changed her bed room
and is sleeping on my lonely bed
and she is not out of reach.

(Pramila Khadun, my friend at facebook, asks and I reply.
If you were to be a bird, which one would you like to be?)

by Akhtar Jawad

Comments (4)

Rich in reality yet flying high with fantasy! Well done my friend
I am a seeker, A bird flying high in the sky, In that moment of flying.... a blissful state in air where i am free...full of space, A vast expanse of azure blue sky.
Our fantasies are our desires to do what we practically unable to do.Observing a bird fly inspired man to make aeroplane. A really amazing poem about bird.I like how your flight of imagination took you from a bird on earth to a fairy.
A beautiful poem of fantasy and illusions. I, too, love birds - all birds. I envy their ability to walk on the ground, and then be able to fly to the highest perch atop some tree or rocky ledge. And I pity the birds that cannot fly. Evolution has dealt harshly with them. But if I had a choice, I, too, would love to be a bird - but I can't decide what kind. But definitely one that could fly! A great poem - it stirred my imagination to create wild dreams.