Clouds Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Clouds
A cloud of colours and hot air
resembled a large Bosco pear.
It floated effortlessly through
the atmosphere above the dew.
Observing people, far and wide
it nodded and it sometimes cried.
I think that I shall never see
a cloud as uninformed as me.
Do you, my darling, find it odd
that there should be a real God.
And if there is why would he bless
this superfragilistic mess?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 7:15:44 AM # 1.0.0.1119
