The Hummingbird Asks God
Humming bird in his bed,
He dreamt of God, he said,
"Why let the cruel wind blow?
It upsets my balance so!
It blows off all the ripe fruits,
All that's left are buds and shoots!
I must shelter in the mountains,
Missing all the colour fountains.
Why set the sun so fast?
Or not let the night quickly past?
Why make us hibernate, I say?
Flowers in summer are so gay!
I praise you for flowers,
But to find good nectar takes hours!
Some nectar is so bad,
It makes me sick and sad."
"Little humming bird in bed,
Wind makes flowers come again,
It doesn't knock you to give pain,
Find other ripe fruits,
There's more than buds and shoots.
Forever in the mountains,
There are other colour fountains.
Beautiful are the stars of night,
Some animals don't like light.
Animals need different seasons,
Some need winter for special reasons.
Some nectar is for bees, who help flowers,
Searching does not take hours.
Almost no nectar is so bad,
That it makes you sick and sad."
Humming bird still in bed,
To God said,
"I've nothing else to say,
My troubles now are far away."
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