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Sparrow (1)

Wounded sparrow,

Limping aside,

Near the gutter,

It cannot fly

 

The passers-by don’t see,

Drivers rush ahead,

No one to help you, little sparrow,

If I were you, I would

Want to be free

 

You’ve got caught in barbed-wiring-life, and

You don’t sleep peacefully at night, then

 

You dream of a man,

Bending down, and

Into his sheltering hands,

Takes you away, to

A pleasant pasture land

 

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