Little bulbul at my window,
To what purpose are you singing?
Can’t you hear the noise and clamour?
Can’t you sense the disaccord?
Who, amid this blare, will ever
Hear your gentle mellow tunes?
Go blend with the glens of calmness:
Here’s no place for birds that tweet;
Here’s a place for birds of prey
Whose essence is to tear and eat.
~ Poetictouch
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