Truth is difficult to find where
The hungry crow builds its nest,
Driven by a thirst for water and food.
No feast is prepared for this small bird,
Whose only intent is to snatch and steal
In the course of its daily life.
The crow ventures out in the dark
While the world is fast asleep;
It knows how to stir the cookware
And rattle the quiet utensils,
Leaving behind its messy tracks
Just to break the order of things.
Even when plenty of food exists,
The crow never touches what is fresh;
It thrives instead on discarded scraps,
Just as creatures in the frozen Arctic
Depend on one another to survive.