Under a weeping rainbow sky,
Earth's fragile angels fly,
A top man's lamenting gasps,
Astride God's indignant blasts,
To the wild winds tethered,
From the flight of time feathered,
By fires of Heaven blessed,
Engaged in a mystical quest.
Flying through glittering showers,
Gliding over perfumed flowers,
Bowing under confetti of snow,
Applauding to the sun's golden glow,
All beneath an empire to touch,
Onto nature's beauty to clutch,
Unbounded by the land's edges,
Perched on the mightiest ledges.
My little feathered friend,
We'd be faithful to the end,
If you'll be my little wing,
I'll be your humble king,
The feather to my quill,
From afar I fly with you still,
For man's form is not free,
But through your eyes we can see.
The eyelids the little wings,
From the light where the soul sings,
When wings faintly flutter,
It flaps man into a stutter,
So give us a resplendent birdsong,
To make our love eternally strong,
On your arm let us all soar,
Towards an ever ascending awe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem