Siberian Crane

Every year when the winter wanes
she comes to me, a snowy Crane,
she tells me how far has she flown,
from Siberia, straight to my town,
in her wings she carries shiny flakes
of poems written by her owner, a lake;

Every year when the winter wanes
she comes to me, a snowy Crane,
she tells me what she has done all those days,
how she has brought twigs to build her lays,
where from she's got that beauty of a mind,
how she for warmth longed and pined,

Every year when the winter wanes,
I find by my window a beauty of a Crane,
she tells me so many stories of her flight,
how she flew by the days and the nights,
how she got kissed by the sun's first rays,
how the cloud fairies kept her amazed,

Every year when the winter is about to go
and the spring is just to begin her show,
I think I find another reason to write
for that bird, her journeys, her visions and sights.

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