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A Cloud
A grey cloud in holes
flew in the sky alone,
headed for its dole
all the time along.
Brilliant sunlight spots
fell onto the ground.
Jumped as little balls,
run as a greyhound.
With the insects brittle
rushed along the meadow,
an’ there a May beetle
made another circle.
An’ sounds everywhere
rang out as in a jungle,
the guests in the air
lavishly got jumbled.
Fondly dandelions
crowded all together,
organ-grinders – flyers
played in fair weather.
Suddenly black clouds
gathered in the sky,
blew away round dance
in the near dry.
Soared in the bounds
of the vault of heaven,
the cloud on the ground
fell to form forever.
My page on a Russian site:
www.stihi.ru/avtor/boreaus
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