Across the white cloud
mountains of the page
the birds fly, singing loudly
their freedom from their cage.
O the joyous song
as they move towards the sunset,
singing as they fly along,
singing, singing every one.
In my dreams their wings
are strung across the page
like words: they sing, they sing, they sing
their freedom from their cage.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem