The plane in the sky's so far by now
It burned a path through the frigid clouds
Filled up with dreams of buoyant voyagers-
Time goes quickly; planes sail wings of air.
The geese are slow, compared to planes
The geese have sails made of feathered hue
With a noise, even children knew-
And sinuous engines, concealed in muscle.
Fly me, sky-plane; fly me somewhere far
Keep flying, don't stop for a moon- or a star;
Fly across time, losing seconds few
As space is unbound from time, in the blue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem