Paper or bag tied with strings
Made from uncomplicated things
Outside, I need to go there now
Wind must be good somehow.
In the sky, I instantly made it fly
The strings are on the hands of mine
Watching the red and white up there
Wondering how long it will linger.
Strong blows to the northwest
Fighting the wind with all my best
Yet, I am not that strong enough
The wind seems to be too tough.
The flying string was cut into two
I can do nothing but let my kite go
As I did so, tears run down my face
That is supposed to be my life, I confess.