Where will go this dove
When her wings be gray
And her coo grew old
Is she resort to the mirrors of the young sparrows?
And downfall in illusion
Or a deaf window will give her a chance to sing?
How can she apologise to a tourist prospered to combing her feathers,
When the flock flee
How it's possible to sway in the courtyard
Or persist to lure the grass?
Is she will seeks for a good boy
To grind a seed of wheat,
Or an old lover
Share with her the aged passion
She will divide with a widow
And the metallic cage
Or may be
Keep wailing in the birds funerals,
Where would go this dove?
When the tree donate her a low nest
And neighbours don't care about her past.