The teacher of the filming is great! It's not easy! The editing is great. Awesome! It's so pretty! The video of nature have brought people into the realm of beauty. I enjoy watching and listening the wild birds! It took a lot of effort for the blogger to edit so many kinds of birds. Thank you for allowing me to feast my eyes and ears.
拍摄的老师很棒！ 这并不容易！ 编辑很棒。 惊人的！ 它是如此美丽！ 大自然的影像把人们带入了美的境界。 我喜欢看和听野鸟！ 博主费了好大的功夫，才编辑了这么多种类的鸟。 谢谢你让我大饱眼福。
*On The Forest Floor*
This is a sad poem if you appreciate the beauty and innocence of a lovely bird. This little bird is dying and nobody stops to help.
Beneath some fallen leaves;
On the forest floor,
Lies a bird; silent.
Chirping no more…
The once esteemed beauty
Of his golden feathers,
Are now washed away,
By the rain and awful weather,
His wings are bent and broken;
He can barely fly,
The eagle-like heart he once had,
Is now beginning to die.
No one looks up to this bird anymore.
He is just another fallen object,
Lying on the forest floor…
The little bird, as he dies,
Looks up at the blue skies,
And no one even stops to cry,
Or to feel any emotions inside,
As his heart beats its last song,
No one wonders if they have done wrong.
As it was, the bird just needed love;
Love, all along.
But there was no one there,
To mend his broken wings,
There was no one there,
To listen to the song he would sing.
The people were too busy,
And too controlled by wealth,
To care at all about nursing a bird,
Back to proper health.
They could not look down,
To the broken, sad, and poor;
And spot a little bird,
Lying there,
On the forest floor,
They could not bend down,
And cup him in their palm.
They could not sooth him,
And make his beating heart calm.
But there was Someone,
Up in the sky,
He watched sadly,
As the little bird slowly died,
His hand reached down,
From the place in the sky,
It carried the bird up, up,
Way up high.
Now the bird is free,
Free again.
Free to chirp, free to sing,
A song of no end,
But, down here,
Where the bird once lay;
On the forest floor,
Things get harder;
Worse than they were before,
More things die,
And drop to the ground.
Things vanish away,
Without making a sound,
And while they are now happy,
We can not ignore,
The bird we left there to die,
On the forest floor.
在森林地板上
如果你欣赏一只可爱鸟的美丽和纯真，这是一首悲伤的诗。 这只小鸟快死了，没有人停下来帮忙。
在一些落叶下；
在森林地面上，
躺着一只鸟；
沉默的。
不再叽叽喳喳…
曾经备受推崇的美丽
他金色的羽毛，
现在被冲走，
由于下雨和恶劣的天气，
他的翅膀弯曲折断；
他几乎不能飞，
曾经那颗鹰一般的心，
现在开始死了。
没有人再仰望这只鸟了。
他只是另一个坠落的物体，
躺在森林的地上……
小鸟死后，
仰望蓝天，
甚至没有人停止哭泣，
或感受内心的任何情绪，
当他的心脏跳动最后一首歌时，
没有人怀疑他们是否做错了。
事实上，这只鸟只需要爱；
爱，一直。
但是那里没有人，
修补他破碎的翅膀，
那里没有人，
去听他会唱的歌。
人们太忙了，
也太受财富控制，
完全关心照顾一只鸟，
恢复正常的健康。
他们不能低头，
致破碎、悲伤和贫穷的人；
发现一只小鸟，
躺在那里，
在森林地面上，
他们不能弯腰，
将他捧在掌心。
他们无法安抚他，
并让他跳动的心平静下来。
但有人，
在天际之上，
他伤心地看着，
随着小鸟慢慢死去，
他的手伸了下去，
从天上的地方，
它把鸟抬上来，上来，
高高在上。
现在小鸟自由了，
又免费了。
自由啾啾，自由歌唱，
一首没有尽头的歌，
但是，在这里，
鸟儿曾经栖息的地方；
在森林地面上，
事情变得更难了；
比以前更糟，
更多的东西死去，
然后倒在地上。
事情烟消云散，
不出声，
虽然他们现在很幸福，
我们不能忽视，
我们留在那里等死的鸟，
在森林地面上。
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