I make my house myself, To keep my children safe, I go around the day, To collect rare foods.
I leave my bed at dawn, And lay back in bed at dusk, Some good people feed me, rest, I keep on wandering and eating.
But you know I chirp a bare, unlike the other birds, I don’t have the strength to oppose, The irritating herds.
I demand water by asking, “chirrup” as politely as I can, A lady in a small cottage comes out and provides.
Even sometimes, a crow, snatches my meal, I don’t perceive how to fight, I leave the place, and search out a new treasure around.
I am much concerned, About my kids who miss me, in the nest around the clock, I pray to God, To give that old woman, Everything she wishes, As she is my living god, who cares about my appetite.
She is the one I trust, must be adored by, thousands of humans, Inside their temples.
She is the one I believe, Must have educated others, To look after us poor, And weak birds.
I, but can’t fight, With my goddess, who knows that as like her? Children, I also have some, In my home.
I wake up every morning, and visit fifty-odd homes, Of which, just a few of them, Throughout the year, Do like to feed us, do like to care.
For the villain's cheer,
My rose has fallen,
Over here.
I descend the steps,
To take you there,
But over here,
You will find a mare.
A mare will,
Though represent,
Tend to be a deadly fare.
Hey, shout! my dear,
Though not shout,
For you will make,
A sudden-ed pout.
My soul will though remain,
Not with you, I ascertain,
It will rest in the peace of yours,
The wider you spread,
You may make it browse,
But with peace I claim,
For the sake of Karan's name.
