Everywhere are light, swift silhouettes—
you dart here and there,
through forests of steel and glass,
across boundless skies and earth.
The morning glow turns to sprites,
keeping you company as you search the horizon.
Sparrow—your cry holds no melody,
yet within your small frame
dwells a clear embrace of ordinary life.
You soar above the storm.
The stronger the wind and rain,
the more they affirm your flight.
Cloud and mist can never bar your way;
you cut through, onward—
flying, always flying.
An age noisy, creation busy,
life and death unknown ahead—
yet in your heart lies vast, hidden power.
You lack the eagle’s grandeur,
the peacock’s splendor,
but you are not common.
With longing for the future,
you guard your simple place.
Sparrows are everywhere—
joyful, self-assured.
This “sparrow’s delight”
is one of life’s true blessings.
