Do not shoot birds!

Huge black flock
Was flying away from winter to the south.
Huge black flock
Was tired of a long road and *drouth.
In the night, after meeting a big town,
The flock came down to take a rest.
And the whole town was laughing in the morning,
Was amusing itself with the rooks' talks.
And the most funny little rook,
Enjoying the autumn warmth,
Was going down lower on the branches,
Coming closer to trouble.
And the rook did not know, why it happens,
That the bird hinders someone on the ground.
And the warmth went away, the singing of birds ceased.
Only the cry left, overgrowing with the pain around.
Do not shoot in birds!
There is so much space in the sky.   
The flock was flying away straight into the skies.
The sky darkened, hearing the squawk,
And took the pain of the whole flock.
It was the late autumn day.
The birds were flying away, were flying away.



*drouth – noun, dialect-Scottish. (Drought)