I climbed up the karaka tree Into a nest all made of leaves But soft as feathers. I made up a song that went on singing all by itself And hadn`t any words, but got sad at the end. There were daisies in the grass under the tree. I said just to try them: "I`ll bite off your heads and give them to my little children to eat." But they didn`t believe I was a bird; They stayed quite open. The sky was like a blue nest with white feathers And the sun was the mother bird keeping it warm. That`s what my song said: though it hadn`t any words. Little Brother came up the patch, wheeling his barrow. I made my dress into wings and kept very quiet. Then when he was quite near I said: "Sweet, sweet!" For a moment he looked quite startled; Then he said: "Pooh, you`re not a bird; I can see your legs." But the daisies didn`t really matter, And Little Brother didn`t really matter; I felt just like a bird.SourceThe script ran 0.007 seconds.
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