Clouds are crawling like ghosts
Over the grassland,
Leaving moist message of mourning
Upon the tip of green.
The sky is not unlighted yet,
Shimmering with a pale whiteness
Like the sclera of your eyes.
Then a sudden gust of rain drenches
Our nostalgia for the sun,
That you’ve hoisted as yellow flags
At our open porch of afternoon-love.
beautiful comparisons, nice images, well penned, thanks for sharing,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Clouds are crawling like ghosts...Over the grassland, in this amazing imagery and this is definitely very interesting sharing.....10