I once caught a sparrow, small and black, its wings shivered as I took it in,
Fed the poor little thing, stroked its breast and listened for a heartbeat,
There it was, small but strong, its pulse erratic. Scared creature,
After the day, it had recovered and was ready to fly away, as it was born to do
So, I broke my sparrow’s wings.

Now my sparrow sits in its box, its heart is small and strong,
But I don’t let it out to see the light of day for too long,
I love my sparrow, I look at it night and day,
My warm embrace, from time to time, reminds the thing that it’s mine,
I keep my sparrow in the dark

Today, my sparrow was looking as effervescent and as strong as ever,
It hopped with pride and glee and looked so lovingly at me,
So, I took it out of its box and placed it by the open window,
The wild-eyed adoration of Raa was in its eyes as it peeped at freedom,
So, I broke my sparrows wings.

My sparrow is looking a little tired and upset,
I placed it in the box without a friend or a strand of hope to live on,
I told my sparrow that I love it and that it is special,
And it believes that I love it as it loves me, but I only like it because it is black.
I keep my sparrow in the dark.

The Sparrow

I desired to be loved
and flew down to them
They were so kind that
They just fondled and
Set me free to fly away.

S. Bharat

Hello!
Welcome to the world of shadow
A world without a knee and toe
Protected by a little sparrow
Surrounded by the army of arrow
He said, "Forget about being grow
You just need a dream to follow
It will guide you everywhere you go"

a distraught sparrow,
tries to dodge the arrows of heat,
mother nature's ire!

Go little sparrow,
fly with your wings,
make sure you get away
from all the cruelty this world brings;
Fly away,because you can,
you don't want to stay here
and witness the fall of man.
Go away now,
because some people wish to be you,
and they will do anything in their power
to fly away too;
Use your wings little bird,
you have a special gift that can make you heard.
Fly away to neverland,
you needn't come back to this land.

How you always wake me up early in the morning

Standing on the roof of my house while the house sparrows

Chatter among themselves in their sweet frenzied way

Arguing over food, and space and all the other things that

Siblings squabble over



They flutter around and you pay no attention to them

But like Zarathustra on his hillside, you continue to call out

And demand answers with that strange rising intonation at the end

A rising arpeggio of riddles asking of me in the morning-

Who-who, who-who, who?