The cloud

Written by: jamal Abboud

O, cloud, how you travel,
As slow as a thirsty camel,
And waft above morning breeze,
And above thirsty lands at ease
To watch cities drown in smog,
presents wrapped in yellow fog,
you migrate from wheels' squeals,
and strange music of morn and eve,
O, cloud that is migrating fast,
You are the first, the second and last,
To forsake the rice fields and valley,
With remorse, with urge to cry,
For a lone rose that wants to fly,
So spreads her aroma to your sky
To be consumed around gently,
To be left with her yellow dignity.
O, cloud the tutor of integrity;
The vying rose is eager to learn,
How wherever and whenever 
You fall, Satisfying all longed for rain, 
you glide to your mother
To the vast sea to reborn again,
Tell her, your mysteries are the same
To enjoy generous and eternal game.