When you don’t leave it a choice
It hasn’t nowhere to go
Make for it a false rejoice
Paint for it a window.
Keep there a patch of sky
A space for a fancy flight
For its wings to soar dreamily high
And bathe in the golden light.
You have stolen its endless space
It hasn’t nowhere to go
Make for it a fake happiness
Paint for it a window.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
At first, I thought this was about a bird in a cage. But after reading it a few more times, I believe you could also be referring to our minds - left the ideas fly freely - don't limit them in any way. Excellent poem. Let us interpret it as we will!