A cloud knows its destiny,
birth but a speck in its midst
a warmth gathers a whole,
a design purest in of white.
Then balmy skies made growth
to be inundated, grey to black,
destinies in the winds oath.
Cold, dark within stirs its storm,
overwhelmed tears appear
only then to cry itself away
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is brilliant to imagine about cloud in this meaningful poem. Cloud knows where to do rain and its destiny. An amazing imagery is drawn in this interesting poem.10
Thank you for taking time to do a reading of this poem. Thank you again.