Mine is not a wisdom that would suit others,
I only put the fleeting into verse.
In every fleeting thing I see worlds
Full of fickle, colorful play.
Sages, curse me not. Why bother?
I am a mere cloud, full of fire.
I am a mere cloud. See me float.
I call to dreamers…Not to you!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem