The Hummingbird

Juan Pablo Segovia · 1 de Noviembre de 2019

One day while spraying
the rose bushes in the garden,
I saw a hummingbird near me
fluttering from one place to another.
The day was extremely hot
and very dry
He was approaching the water again and again
but not enough
I understood that he was very thirsty
and it hurt me to see him like this,
I filled the palm of my hand with water
stretched it towards the hummingbird
I didn't think that he would come to me:
thirst was stronger than fear.
He drank water from my hand!
Once satisfied he took flight
disappearing among the trees.
The next day I looked for the hummingbird
eager to see him again
but I did not find him.
I kept waiting for him day after day.
Never came back

Sikus · 1 de Noviembre de 2019

Juan Pablo Segovia dijo:
One day while spraying
the rose bushes in the garden,
I saw a hummingbird near me
fluttering from one place to another.
The day was extremely hot
and very dry
He was approaching the water again and again
but not enough
I understood that he was very thirsty
and it hurt me to see him like this,
I filled the palm of my hand with water
stretched it towards the hummingbird
I didn't think that he would come to me:
thirst was stronger than fear.
He drank water from my hand!
Once satisfied he took flight
disappearing among the trees.
The next day I looked for the hummingbird
eager to see him again
but I did not find him.
I kept waiting for him day after day.
Never came back

It is a beautiful poem. I don't know if it's just inspiration or experience, but it reminded me of an occasion when I fed a hummingbird that had broken wings for three days. Unfortunately he died, surely of sadness for not being able to fly again. I especially liked the last verse, as in resignation, to understand the nature of the bird. A pleasure to read your lyrics!

Juan Pablo Segovia · 1 de Noviembre de 2019

Sikus dijo:
It is a beautiful poem. I don't know if it's just inspiration or experience, but it reminded me of an occasion when I fed a hummingbird that had broken wings for three days. Unfortunately he died, surely of sadness for not being able to fly again. I especially liked the last verse, as in resignation, to understand the nature of the bird. A pleasure to read your lyrics!

Thanks for your kind words, I had the same experience with birds I tried to save

Ulpiano · 6 de Noviembre de 2019

Juan Pablo Segovia dijo:
One day while spraying
the rose bushes in the garden,
I saw a hummingbird near me
fluttering from one place to another.
The day was extremely hot
and very dry
He was approaching the water again and again
but not enough
I understood that he was very thirsty
and it hurt me to see him like this,
I filled the palm of my hand with water
stretched it towards the hummingbird
I didn't think that he would come to me:
thirst was stronger than fear.
He drank water from my hand!
Once satisfied he took flight
disappearing among the trees.
The next day I looked for the hummingbird
eager to see him again
but I did not find him.
I kept waiting for him day after day.
Never came back

Your poem, a lyrical story worthy of admiration, is very sentimental and touching, dear friend

and poet Juan Pablo. Your love for nature, which includes love for birds, and in this case for

the hummingbird, saved its life. It doesn't matter that it hasn't returned, love is so much more

sublime when we don't expect any reward.

Thank you for continuing sharing with us the beauty of your lyricism.

Another big and fraternal hug,

Ulpiano

Juan Pablo Segovia · 6 de Noviembre de 2019

Ulpiano dijo:
Your poem, a lyrical story worthy of admiration, is very sentimental and touching, dear friend

and poet Juan Pablo. Your love for nature, which includes love for birds, and in this case for

the hummingbird, saved its life. It doesn't matter that it hasn't returned, love is so much more

sublime when we don't expect any reward.

Thank you for continuing sharing with us the beauty of your lyricism.

Thanks Ulpiano
Another big and fraternal hug,

Ulpiano

AlanS · 7 de Noviembre de 2019

Isn’t nature more wonderful than watching TV, or even participating in a great poetry forum? When I was a child, I built some bird houses and bird feeders with wood. One of the bird houses was used by some chickadees, small birds with a cheerful-sounding song.

When I read that you were “spraying” the rose bushes, at first I thought you might be spraying them with a pesticide or with some other chemical, an all-too-common practice these days.

Your English and your poem are quite good. Thanks for sharing.