It will not be long before the season of spring,
when the sparrows will chirp their songs on my window sills,
and at night I can listen to the calls of the whippoorwills.
The morning sunrise drinks the dew from the rose garden,
and the hummingbirds get delight from the color red,
and I sit at the edge of my bed and hear the sparrows happily sing,
their little songs to me,
on my window sills.
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