Blobs of mist that look like shapes,
Look like animals, trees, and apes.
They float in the air like spirits free,
Making themselves not beggars be.
Puffy, white, and soft to the touch,
We imagine how comfortable is much.
Yet, they are our imagination of heaven sought,
When God made the world into what He brought.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem