How I envy birds.
The way they arc through
the air and fall to the ground
in horror. Then simply lifting
their wings and glide up.
There was a day that man
tried to fly.
How I envy bravery.
The way he climbed that cliff,
the vigor and power he portrayed.
His rusty wings hardly able to fly,
but he tried, and tried, and tried.
I envy how he died.
I wish that one day, maybe the
courage to try would spring into
me. So that maybe I could try
and fly, and maybe i could die.
One day...
Someday...
Eventually...
Goodbye...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem