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To the one who turned stranger

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Cloud

Listen to the roar of cloud,
Heed the cry of it,
Even among the companion of untold friends,
Solitude has never left it.

Sometimes it dances with euphoria,
In the setting of sky,
Look! How beautiful is the pattern,
Like the army marching in a line.

Either it is posing for a photo,
Or opening a magical chest,
The flash so bright and the closing of shutter,
Like a lion going to have a bite.

It might be living in an ancient age,
As it is black and white,
Since it cannot fathom our signs,
It is such a stubborn child.

Rolls along with the wind,
Forsooth it is it's best friend,
Always comes together,
Like a new born baby with it's innocent cry.

People's heart fills with pleasure,
When they see it cry,
But when it doesn't seem to stop,
People bear the wildest agony.

Look! How beautiful the cloud,
Bright, as sun has been it's crown,
Feels like it is talking to me,
Something good going to come after a murk.

It must be a lunatic musician,
Canopy it's drum and rain drops it's stick,
Plugging with lusty clamor,
Like children jump over the sweets. 

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