I make my paper boat with immense care
And float it down the stream with a prayer,
And as I watch her moving farther and farther
It tosses and sways on the waves below her.
I love this transient monsoon stream
And see myself in my dream,
Standing on board I am an ancient trader
Waiting for my boat to reach the harbor.
The little paper boat green, blue, red
Set for land far ahead,
And I look closely at her
While it struggles to cross the bar.
And once it disappears before me
I feel it would perhaps reach the sea,
And it make me happy as one could be
Since it's me who is free.
