I'm envious of the clouds
That float happily in the sun -
Changing into colorful shrouds -
Lumping from many into one.
Their most compatible friend -
The wind, admits
They beautify the high heaven.
Nebulosity permits
Travel without a passport.
They slip away on a whim
For a day's length or more
And return a denizen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem