A jet taking off, staying between lines of the telephone
wires, their flights taking them above to new heights,
as yet unknown and unexplored!
There are so many spaces in the sky that have never been
flown in, careening off into near space, a jet finds it's
little niche for just this one time.
Next flight, a new pattern will again be born.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem