Kite
The kite that soared the highest,
Had the tightest string held tightly.
It soared into the sun blast
That glinted in my eye.
I noticed that when I let go a bit,
It soared even higher.
It needed more tension thread
But then I reeled it in slowly.
The pulling in the kite,
Required some strength from me,
As it was pulled and tugged,
Left, right and merrily.
This kite wasn't going to
Come back to me.
So I let go of it's string.
I observed it's crazy and wild path.
This kite had it's own will.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem