As I look toward the sky
With the sun so bright
Something else catches my eye
That's fluffy and white
What could it be
This white thing that floats
It's not in the sea
So it can't be a boat
It moves with the breeze
As far as I can tell
High above the trees
With no scent or smell
I wish I could buy it
Whenever it comes around
This thing is so quiet
It doesn't make a sound
Unless there is thunder
It will never be loud
And I will always wonder
About this beautiful white cloud
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem