I call the cloud,
But she is not there
In the sky.
Do you know her address?
No cloud is there,
But there are stars,
Though the stars
Have no work.
I call the cloud
With rage,
The cloud
Not listened,
And in her place
There came
The dust and haze.
The cloud is
The supporter of my life.
I call the cloud,
Without caring
The tradition and custom.
I know, I am
Never separated
From the cloud,
I call the cloud
But she is not
Giving her ears.
Cloud, cloud, cloud
I cried and the cloud
Is not there anywhere.
What shall I do,
I have to think a while
And if you know
Suggest something
How can I get the cloud!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Farmers love clouds, they bring rain. City dwellers hate clouds as they get wet. We cannot do without clouds. Lovely poem.