The original text -

The wren that rages when I sit
Too close to this mulberry tree
Cannot be told, for all her wit
I hung the gourd she guards from me.

Mike Keith -

The egret fussing in the gloom
Sneers curtly - heh! - to torture me;
That horrid budgie in the room
Now raw, castrated fowl shall be.

Richard Brodie -

Fowl frees herb? Sh! Ere I wait.
Thy song I'll not accommodate!
Throttle gruesome warbling sound,
There! I thrust her at the ground!

Larry Brash -

This bird's a bloody mongrel twit,
For me, she'll ne'er care a shit.
The aggressor, the ungrateful cur,
Motto: we then hit to wound her.

Don P. Fortier -

The most fearsome bird,
Who's such a threat:
It'll force me urgently to run.
I, a shotgun go and get.
With this, her terror be "well done".

Richard Grantham [in the style of e.e.cummings] -

          bird(
                 there, secre
          ting fruit
          N
          )ear me her

      old
      sweeT(
      carol
              t
                th
                   the(
      then

  holds sour)thr
  ough
         (rage;
  But
  fails
To
    g(l
        ean
'tis
m
  my
      (
       own
             ow
                 o

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