The birds in the sky
Let out a shrill cry,
As if to say—
“How can we fly?”

But we, the Men,
Are so insane:
We can’t feel or fathom
The feathers’ pain.

We drag and take
The world to a stake;
And do no good
To the done-mistake.

The folk of the sky
Still continues to fly,
With gasps for breath—
And a deep, long sigh.

Can’t we unite,
Take up the fight —
And beat the pollution ,
To make the welkin bright?