At dawn he wakes up with mind of a crystal grace
Completely refreshed and calm by overnight sleep
But soon nobility and peace of his hallowed space
Is pierced by shrill & cry that make the spirit weep.
Hark – the Papeeha, with its shrill & jagged tongue
Sings a throbbing, sore number that stays unstrung
Repeating its pee-kahan – pee-kahan across the sky
They say, it is searching for love with persistent cry.
This reminds him the folklore whispered by mother
A prince, lost beloved, and transformed into a bird
Continues seeking mate in this life and then another
With the only eternal voice his heart has ever heard.
Now his world confined into just that single strain
A desolate life of longing, bound by love and pain.
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