There’s a beautiful bird out in a forest. She flies her little wings up and down the hilly terrain near the glistening, cold Himalayas. They refer to her as Noori; this beautiful, colorful bird. On rare occasions they get a glimpse of her striking beauty. Yet always, they hear her tweeting her silly, sweet songs to herself. Tunes that echo across mountains, resonate through valleys, and penetrate through souls.
She makes me cry, this little bird.
I’d sacrifice a limb for her. I’d die for her.
There’s a little bird that sings her sweet songs in a forest. Her innocence is what lovers fall for. Her beauty is what poets write of.
who is my father.