Sitting at the top of the sky in the
clouds where the wind chimes,
whispering stories in cryptic rhymes
with the birds who flee from the rain,
far away into the sun which burns fires
in the hearts of the young
until rainbows burst with the songs
the wind sung and summer springs again.
19.07.2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem