Like the white cotton
It floats in the sky,
Like the wild tiger
It roars when charging high.
Like fierce ghost
It scares the fisherman in the seas,
Like a loser tears
It pours rain into my native valleys.
©Bipin Churchung Rabha
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
cloud - a recurrent theme is here revisited with a different version..fine