Thousands of us instinctively
Knew 'twas time to evacuate
From all the flooding rain that be.
To stay would mean a fatal fate.
Only escape would be by air,
Going to safety with the wind.
In mass ballooning we would share
Whatever destiny might send.
All climbed as high as we could go,
Then strands of silk by each were made,
Upward spun to catch the air flow,
A silken balloon cavalcade.
Floating we went, up, up and away,
Spiders on ballooning display.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem