Dulce Juanita

On the early morning of December 28th, I found Juanita dead
With her little legs spread over her eggs
Looking collected and pensive over the nest
She had become cold and stiff, like an orange peel
Perhaps remembering the scent of summer and the song of her already born chicks

Sweet Juanita, sweet Juanita, my tender little bird, oh
How could all the death fit in your little body, oh
Quiet and frozen, brooding nothing, your whole life
Lasted a spring and ended in the early morning

The cage is empty and Juanita dead on her nest
She seems awake and listens for a heartbeat
Her wounded little heart is cooling down and I'm crying
We won't hear your chirps in the summer anymore, cold beak

Sweet Juanita, sweet Juanita, my tender little bird, oh
How could all the death fit in your little body

(The italicized texts correspond to recited parts)