这是我新写的一首英文小诗，讲的是猎人和小鸟的故事，希望大家喜欢！

    The little bird is at rest

Eternal slumber in his nest

The mother bird oh does mourn

For her newly dead newborn

The skillful hunter laughs with glee

Shooting from tree to tree

This damage yet he does know not

Of the baby birds he shot

The hunter stops

And crouches down

To stroke his dog

To show his love

The peaceful calm

In his chest

Reflecting the ease in his quest

Startled his pulse begins to race

Steadies his gun leveled with grace

Tightens his shoulder prepares for the blast

Slowing his breath forgetting the past

Trigger to sight muzzle to bird

Explosion startled all who has heard

In the still of the clearing

A memory returns

For the first birds dying

His fathers face

In his disgrace

For the tender feelings

Felt for his prey

The killing of the bird that day

His father turned

And told his son

To collect the bird

He was done

And through his tears did watch

As his fathers ease with his gun

Took a life

Feelings for the life was none

Through mixed feelings he raised his gun

And killed again

This time for fun