Ominous birds

                 Ominous birds

 

A flock of ominous black birds

Pecks and rummages on our ancient hearths

Pecks, pecks

An ominous feast in our ruined house

In the rhythm, first slowly, then increase

It drowns out the sounds of the morning

Their beaks turn yellow like the teeth of beggars every Sunday in front of the church

With an outstretched hand while they wait for mercy

If you let them stay, you think they will go away, and those are persistent

They pretend to be benign

And they don't care about the fuss that is being made about them

Ominous black birds flee off from our ancient hearths

Damn, you and every grain you pecked