Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me- <br />"We play from the time we wake till the day ends. <br />We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silver moon." <br />I ask, "But how am I to get up to you ?" <br />They answer, "Come to the edge of the earth, lift up your <br />hands to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds." <br />"My mother is waiting for me at home, "I say, "How can I leave <br />her and come?" <br />Then they smile and float away. <br />But I know a nicer game than that, mother. <br />I shall be the cloud and you the moon. <br />I shall cover you with both my hands, and our house-top will <br />be the blue sky. <br />The folk who live in the waves call out to me- <br />"We sing from morning till night; on and on we travel and know <br />not where we pass." <br />I ask, "But how am I to join you?" <br />They tell me, "Come to the edge of the shore and stand with <br />your eyes tight shut, and you will be carried out upon the waves." <br />I say, "My mother always wants me at home in the everything- <br />how can I leave her and go?" <br />They smile, dance and pass by. <br />But I know a better game than that. <br />I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore. <br />I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with <br />laughter. <br />And no one in the world will know where we both are.<br /><br />Sir Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/clouds-and-waves-2/
