That's Nina,
Her black feathers,
Dark as the night,
But soft as the morning light,
That's Nina.
Her little beak,
As sharp as the razor's edge,
But delicate as her little baby leg,
That's Nina.
Her rough feathers,
Glowing in the sun,
Like stars in the night sky.
When the crows come to call,
What if Nina's not ready at all?
The little bird much too small,
That's Nina.
When the day of night,
Comes to sight,
I will say,
Farewell Nina,
Farewell.