I sought to hold the wind with net
yet I could not capture him
at the time of my best bet
the holes-
he went over and under them
The flimsy thing was no match
to his wild abandon
he simply moved from tree to tree
scattering leaves no landin'
The wind pushed me forward with him then
until he grew tired of the weight
I fell to the ground with no more than a howl
wishing I could be more like it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem