I am fond of looking up, every so often
To search for a trace
Or even just a crooked shadow
That might still be lingering amidst my sky.
For those whitest whips, curls and twirls-
Etched tenderly in my memory.
For that abandoned cloud who once danced
And swirled accross
My clear and crisp timebound morning.
It seemed too odd.
Too strange, too unique for some.
Yet, it is still that same peculiar cloud,
My eyes crave to chance upon.
That stubborn cotton mist,
Who swiftly sizzled away from my sight- too soon.
Though all that's left now is
A speck of its sweetness over my lips,
I am forever sheltered in this hunger-
Knowing somehow someday,
This darkness I see will shed
To let my smiley cloud out
And play in my sky again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'To let my smiley cloud out And play in my sky again.'.......''my '' here represents his own world...this poem is very nice...