Ash fills the sky, formed like black snow.
It falls down on the earth.

The sun blocked, a small green dinosaur lays down,
Starving to death, the last of its skin fading away.
It disappears like the plants.
It closes its eyes, death of a dynasty.

An ash on the ground moves, a shake,
And the ash falls off and he flies to the tree.
He climbs up and sings, joined by a red beak.

The last dinosaurs,

Our birds.