Your jubilation, in flight;
your restlessness, in the air;
your life, in the sunshine, in the air, in flight.
How tiny your death,
under the light of living fire.
How serene the grace of your wings,
now [pressed] open forever in the book.
And in you, so gentle, in your silent death,
in your dreamless dream,
how many illusions lost in the air,
how many despairing thoughts.