I shall land on land
when my fear to fly
Tie my wing to my hand.
I shall fall and cry.
I shall think of stars
I flew past fast
And never halt
To bid good-last.
Then I shall die,
Tightly close my eye,
And wonder why
I ever flew.
It is fair to die,
Than
To fly a lie.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem