a cloud shapes a geese
then hover on the clear pond
looking upon itself,
enjoying to the full its
own way of changing things,
even itself,
it forms another image
of itself,
now a cloud which is a cloud
but still not contented
it shifts places
then loses itself to the
caprices of the
south bound wind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem