No one can tell me,
   Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
   Where the wind goes.
 
It’s flying from somewhere
   As fast as it can,
I couldn’t keep up with it,
   Not if I ran.
 
But if I stopped holding
   The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
   For a day and a night.
 
And then when I found it,
   Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
   Had been going there too.
 
So then I could tell them
   Where the wind goes . . .
But where the wind comes from
   Nobody  knows.