Silence sprouts before him like a little flower in spring.
Dew covers the grass with tiny drops, and the coldness of the morning is reflected in the skies as his eyes look for clouds among the stars.
Finding one, it takes him along, floating through the heavens on a dream.
A dream which will take him beyond the realms of reality, and bring him back again.
With his pockets full of empty and his thoughts just the same, he travels the world over looking for a home.
A place where he can put his feet up for a while.
Too much of this - it gets him tired!
Back into the world, traveling on his cloud of heaven, where he can always dream his little boy dreams and never have a pocket full of empty, only a pocket full of hopeless joy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely poem, carefree, a dreamers cloud, aye, I've sailed on a few myself.