Foot-Land - jeu de foot fun et convivial

j'ai lu ça et j'ai cherché un mot pour décrire ce que j'ai senti et j'ai pensé : extase
My troubles aren't due to misfotune, nor sadness,
Nor is it because my clothes or shelter are lacking,
Neither due to lack of electricity, water or bread,
It is the loss of solitude's charm
I hope one day this ordeal is resolved.
Wish I could become wind so to play with your hair,
Or become words entering your ears,
Become an idea so to gain access to your thoughts,
Or become a Benz under your feet,
Become money in your pockets for you to carry,
Or become dust so to enter your lungs.
I know, you have a myriad of admirers in queue,
They all love and highly think of you,
And that warm persona of yours!
I come at times close just to become distant and stray,
I may end up dead if this continues, I fear
I wish to become a current and his your gaze,
Become a tear just to touch and roll down your face,
Or a ringlet - touching your slender shoulders,
Or wind and play with your hair,
A cigar so to touch your lips,
Or become its smoke so to be absorbed in your lungs,
O fortune! Come to my rescue as my restplace is cold with her absence