Oh I wish I had tight little feet,
Could beat out a song on the rug
And thin as a sylph,
Eyes bright like a dove-
Spaced wide apart, like a classical beauty/
Wish I could sing like the nightingale,
Never say the wrong word,
Always say the right-
A riot at parties,
Friends that last through the night/
Imaginations fine; such a happy place to be,
But it doesn't cut it in history;
I've got to be myself-
Whether win or lose-
Cause nobody else could ever be me/
(But sometimes you know
I really do wish I could fly..)
(written to Cold Place by niha)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great-big, beautiful truth! Wonderfully spoken. No one else can ever be any of us.