…And the clouds painted the sky

Blossomed, as if echoed upon the land of flowers and trees.
Burst, as if cottons lighted wherever it travelled.
Floated, as if boats harbored at the very beyond.
And many have been attracted.

Behold, friends of mine.
Have the lizards crawled,
Over the thickness of grass, alongside the filth of marshes,
Creeping on the land –
The land under the welkin, the land of wonders.
And it stares upon the azure of clouds…
…And the clouds painted the sky.

Behold, friends of mine.
Have the bird flown,
Down by the deepest abyss, up above the brightest firmament,
Piercing through the mist,
Dashing across the haze.
And it dives into the azure of clouds…
…And the clouds painted the sky.

Behold, friends of mine.
Have the man imagined,
Beyond the highest airs, athwart the thickest clouds –
The air of clouds,
The clouds of many.
And he visions beneath, toward, and above the azure of clouds…
…And the clouds painted the sky.

Alas! Powerless is the man.
How he has wished to discard the forms of lizards,
Of many kinds that crawl and walk.
How he has wished to become the birds of skies,
Whereby he flies – upward, and higher.
How he has been confined in the mind of mortal!
But the thinker is yet to be saddened:
For the wisdom has lied within,
Alongside limitless colors of the world,
The celestial world of many clouds, many skies.

My beloved ones! What has the man envisioned?
The clouds and the firmament –
The great picture of the realm beyond,
The pure magnificence for mortals to observe,
And the symbol that tells
That more will arrive, in the land, in his vision,
More of the clouds, more of the azure;
More of the wonder, more of the scenes;
More of the mindfulness, more of the tranquility –
It is.

And the clouds painted the sky.