comme un oiseau,
Elle vole de ses propres ailes.
her silhouette is black against the evening blue of the sky,
the breeze as gentle as her whispered words.
Le vent souffle doucement
Aussi lente que les saisons passent.
and just like a bird,
she flits above the treetops, her chicks left at home in the nest.
Mais comme un oiseau vole,
elle ne peut pas voler longtemps*
but every little bird, no matter how brave
must return home.
I wrote this poem so that I tells the reader three poems;
the first: in English, tells the story of a mother-figure, having dream-like experiences.
the second: in French, tells us of how she struggles to keep going
the third: the whole poem is about her needing space from her family, her life, because she's struggling, but that she just can't stay away for ever.
this poem is entirely about the readers interpretation.