Clouds

Past the white apple of the moon, Past the red apple of sunset’s tune, Clouds from some unknown far-away, Rush to us, then vanish on their way. Clouds — white-maned horses racing high! Clouds — why do you fly without a sigh? Please don’t look down from up above, Take us riding through the sky, oh clouds we love! We’ll rush into a sky so far, Past fading stars, like little sparks. A star will softly fall to meet, And stay in hand like a daisy sweet! Clouds — white-maned horses racing high! Clouds — why do you fly without a sigh? Please don’t look down from up above, Take us riding through the sky, oh clouds we love!