The gorgeous evening sky,
With a lovely hue,
Succumbs to the transforming—
E'er to bid adieu.
Slowly, the sky's conforming,
Though reluctant to.
Taking on another look,
As skies are wont to.
All morphing before the eye,
The clouds rearrange.
With repositioned sunrays,
The colors ever change.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem