Cloudy Poem by Henrik Berg
Cloudy
There is great mystery
Hidden in a silent mans frown.
Deep thought
Leaning back on a park bench
Taking in the riverbank in front of him.
At home.
For it is his, the bench
As is the riverbed and the cloudy sky.
Green. Blue. Grey.
Green eyes, suddenly gone blank,
Drifting, looking somewhere, nowhere.
And in this, a great mystery
In deep thought
Green, blue, grey sky
That quietly begins to rain.
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 2:30:19 AM # 1.0.0.1119
