Across the blue sky
In the morn the birds fly,
How pleasant its life must be !
Living in a garden leafy tree.
Takes off from the nest in the morn,
Searches for food till the dawn,
Flies high in the sky taking pains
In the search of grains.
Somewhere on a stack of hay
Collects grains with joy and gay;
Away from home till the dark,
Hurriedly comes back to its tree's bark.
Slowly climbs up to its nest,
Gives its young ones the days best,
Rests for the entire night,
Enjoying the sweet moon light.
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