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A little hand
A thread
The kite thread
The Shemal Wind
Piled clouds over the coast
Where you were running
The thread in your hand
You breathe in the joy of flying
Your heart hops
Feeling light in your play
The thread extends toward the sky
In your hand
The kite
Climbing into a cloud
You are enveloped in droplets
No one is there
You and the wind
Running
Your spirit ascends in a cloud
Lighter than a feather
Over the palm tops
Over the boats
Returning from the fishing trip
Over the little houses
free
Flying with the wind
Then, returning to land
Wrapping the thread
Over your arm
And you walk, hopping in joy
Towards the house.