If I am a little bird
and have big power
though my wings are wearied
and the sun will disappear behind the cloud
I will reform them
and get the wind to sweep away
there's no reason to be back
But I'm afraid of the blowing wind
it will be too fast
and either hit me away
it's not a dream when sleeping
I don't sleep
and it's not a story of dreamer's imagination
not a fantasy of hope
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem