Freshly washed clouds in tides
start taking their routine rides.
They wonder the white doves
flying with their flapping loves.
An umbrella of a cloud covers that village
As a lonely eagle takes a great milage.
The leaves turn yellow, a lonely child
trembles in the corner, with lips never smiled.
These clouds are heralding the fall,
between us building a high wall.
Even the sparrows disappeared
No more birthdays are there.
Birthdays, not known by sparrows
Yet they have been hit by arrows.
Clouds gather in groups to make a move.
Forget? So hard to get out of a groove.
On my forehead clouds give me a kiss.
As if giving sending me some bliss.
Clouds over my head boiling slow
Clouds, don't leave us without glow!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem