What is it that a fleeting sparrow'd say,
if he'd been gifted with our language true?
Could any one of us hazard a way,
to think of what he'd say after he flew?

I think that if we tried to guess we'd miss,
but nonetheless I'll give a proper try.
My best assumption would be only this:
"I'm tired, but regardless, I must fly."

Can any look upon a soaring bird,
and think that flight must be a hefty weight?
A man would think the notion is absurd,
in chasing freedom, wings could never sate.

The gift of flight must be a nasty curse.
With proper legs, their lives wouldn't be worse.