I love chasing the clouds
Across the fields and vales
In the calm morning
Against blasting gales
I love them passing over
High mountains tops
Hiding among bushes
And waves of ripe crops
I get enormous thrill
As they tarry over
Our land to check the sun
As a large fleecy cover
They change hues from
White, black and grey
Often, they remain for long
In gentle wind to merrily sway
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem....enjoyed it