I saw five birds in the park.

His hobby is collecting bird feathers.

His new poem is light and beautiful like a bird's wing.

His feathers were of a beautiful color.

It's better for him not to know the truth. After all, ignorance is bliss.

He is feigning ignorance about that problem.

He knows that pain through his own experience.

I have no way of knowing what he is thinking.

He is working hard to make his abilities known to the world.

In order to understand his feelings, I had a deep conversation with him.