A plastic bag, flying high in the air,
Whirling around and around.
Floating in the whirlwind, without a care,
In the blue above the ground.
Dancing in the sky, amidst the clouds,
Higher and higher still.
No fear, no sorrow, no qualms, no doubts,
Borne on the thermals, without a will.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem