Ficly

Le vent

I want to run with the wind.
The breeze is my sister,
the gust is my mother;
the gale is my father.

I want the Sun on my back
and my sister beside me
as I find horizon’s end
and all places in between.

I want to go where I am taken;
pulled along on a family trip
to see mountains and seas,
villages and cities.

I want to carry airplanes
so that I may travel with them,
and maybe lift a rocket
so that I can see the atmosphere.

I want my experiences
to surround me
so that you may know where I’ve been
by my smell.

I want to run with the wind,
but do not fear
I will be prepared
for any turbulence.

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