A little cuckoo wanna fly,
Fly away to unknown place,
The place where fruits smell fragrance,
But the cuckoo has soft wings,
And others call him a little chick.
He knows the fruits won’t last long,
The other bird will enjoy them all,
But he can’t build a nest in it,
To protect a fragranced tree,
As he is a little chick.
He chirps melodious rhythm,
And ’tis his means to express,
His wish to build a nest.
He knows every tree isn’t for his own,
Coz’ he can’t build a nest
On a fruitless and leafless tree,
And he will live not long,
If no nest for his own,
Coz’ storm store no mercy for all.