Paper I folded
From paper it came
There it was with beautiful plumage
With colors I could not name

I took it from my teacher's hand
And quickly I ran away
To where the bird could fly in open air
And I could watch it if I may

From paper it had been born
But to me it was alive
And to see it fly free
Was my goal to strive

It left my hand
The bird, it I threw
But it fell limply to the ground
This was new!

I stared at it dumb
Why it should swimming in the sky
But it lay on the ground and I yelled
"What bird cannot fly!"

A person who walked past
Had heard my loud cry
And picked the bird up and said
"It is the bird with clipped wings who cannot fly."