I well remember a time before you left,
when various garden birds were with us.
Honey-eaters were living here,
when you said to me
from far away there,
'Here, there are only sparrows to see'.
Now here where I live
with your ashes in the flowers,
with your feet in the green-seeding meadow,
I see little sparrows feeding,
playing in the fresh-soft fairy grass.
I know, you are home at last.
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