When I woke this early morning,
It seemed to me the sky was yawning;
It stretched across the languid sea,
on cotton clouds nonchalantly.
It lazed about all through the day,
in the most indolent way;
In its nightgown skyblue white,
lounging in the sweet sunlight.
Still the world raced, spun around,
Too busy to gaze at the profound;
Never caring, to stop and stare,
Oblivious - completely unaware.
That we must too take time to be;
and stare at clouds nonchalantly.
©
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem