Flight

Translated a English poem into English comprising only the most commonly used ten hundred words. I have tried to keep the rhyme scheme and meaning largely intact. The result is somewhat interesting.
An internet cookie if you figure out the original poem.

High run-in-the-sky
With credit to John Gillespie Magee Jr
Oh! I have run from the hold of the ground
And seen the greatest beauty of high-air
Up I go, and meet with happy sound
The white the Sun loves, - and doing, while there,
Things you think impossible - I'm turning
In the quiet air, from where I lie
I play with the quick running wind, taking
Myself through that great land of air on high...

High, high, on the air-road of fire-blue
Seeing things from land both high and low
Looking at a world that is still new
To me, to you, and to the world, even:
I walked the secret road that I now know
- reached out my hand, and held the gate of heaven.