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I have collected these poems from around the web, authors are un-known unless otherwise noted.


"Mother Parrot's Advice to her Children"

Never get up till the sun gets up, Or the mists will give you a cold,
And a parrot whose lungs have once been touched Will never live to be old. 
Never eat plums that are not quite ripe,
For perhaps they will give you a pain:
And never dispute what the hornbill says,
Or you'll never dispute again. Never despise the power of speech:
Learn every word as it comes,
For this is the pride of the parrot race,
That it speaks in a thousand tongues. Never stay up when the sun goes down,
But sleep in your own home bed,
And if you've been good, as a parrot should,
You will dream that your tail is red.

Ganda, Africa
Translated by A.K. Nyabongo

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"Plight of the Parrot"

The rain forest where we once lived
Was lush and thick and green.
The trees, they reached into the sky
Like none that most have seen

And in the tree's a hollow spot
Is where we both would go,
For in the hollow, we would lay
Our eggs as white as snow.

The forest it had plenty
Of food for us to eat
And water holes where animals
Would play and swim and meet.

One day as I was in my log
I heard a awful sound,
I flew out to the lookout branch
To see what lurked around.

A human with his nets and gloves,
Machete and a sack,
Had come to steal our chicks from us,
Oh how I want them back.

And when he took our little chicks
I heard a piercing cry,
He dropped my chick from up above,
I had to watch him die.

And when he left, we went to see
Our hollow and our nest
Our family was gone you see,
Our place where we would rest

The village men he walked for miles
Through forest thick and green,
The babies cried inside the bag,
It hurt to hear them scream.

Into the village with the bag
The merchants came to see,
When opened up a single chick
is all that there would be.

On the bottom lay my chick,
His body limp and frail,
His eyes sunk in, his wrinkled skin,
no longer would he wail.

The thunders coming closer
The tree shakes from the ground,
Branches flying everywhere
Our home is falling down.

I fly away and then I see
My mate is no where near
I search above the tree tops
no calls for me to hear.

And on the ground my lifelong mate
Lies still as still can be,
And we will never mate again
And never will be three.

And all the trees where we once lived
are gone forever now,
For roads and pastures take their place
And ranchers with their cows.

Our food supply has dwindled
our water hole is gone,
No place to rest my tired wings
Dear mate it wont be long

Soon you will not see us
In the forest if you look,
The library is where we'll be
inside a picture book.

So wont you tell you children
of the parrots you once knew,
and rest your head at night with ease,
Knowing, you did all that you could do.