Clouds have about them a random scribbling charm,
Their radiant smiles, as they dance, fly and float,
Racing across with hopeful lining, to places remote
Unlike the fussy, chaotic, gloomy ones chased by storm;
When slackened, spread about, float aloft and form
A decor, high in the heavenly abode with silvery coat,
Sending forth harbingers of joy, wide across to tote;
Often even as fair winged angels causing feelings warm;
Dreamers, lovers and explorers venturesome - all
Breaking new ground, find themselves on cloud nine;
A fringe- stretch or speck, glows with a transmuted shine
And renders comely success to be felt that tall;
If gloom and sorrow are said to be found in them,
Hope, pleasure and flight as well, from thence do stem...!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem