This mind viewed the nimbus cloud from the ground;
holding the arm of imagination.
I looked at the picture that I had found;
till I was lured by mental conception.
My heart pulsated in a pounding sound
when I saw the searched thought in cognition.
The silent ink penned in melancholy
in my own world where I saw things in glee.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem