Where am I going? I don't quite know.
Down to the streams where the king-cups grow
Up to the hill where the pine-trees blow
Anywhere, anywhere, I don't know
Where am I going? The clouds sail by,
Little ones, baby ones, over the sky.
Where am I going? The shadows pass,
Little ones, baby ones, over the grass
If you were a cloud, and sailed up there,
You'd sail on the water as blue as air,
And you'd see me here in the fields and say:
"Doesn't the sky look green today?
Where am I going, the high rooks call:
"It's awful fun to be born at all,
"Where am I going? The ring-doves coo:"
We do have beautiful things to do."
If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You'd lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You'd say to the wind when it took you away:
"That's where I wanted to go today!"
Where am I going? I don't quite know.
What does it matter where people go?
Down to the wood where the blue-bells grow
Anywhere, anywhere. I don't know.
Poema de A.A. Milne do livro "When we were very young".
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