The night before our faithful sojourn,

From the eerie isle of Crete.

Our father, Daedalus, has created me

for the sake of saving his son.

As a newborn bird spreads its wings;

flap flap flap against the wind,

As if we were both Gods.

Defying the expectations of all.

The golden, blazing rays of the sun

had other ideas about our journey.

Poor, Poor Icarus, whose head was inflated

by the infinite freedom of ruling the skies.

In the end, my flawless function,

which allowed man to rule the skies,

Was cut short by the infinite flaws of Human Psyche

My short life neverless filled with endless pleasure

of soaring the sunny skies.