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Home  »  library  »  poem  »  The Cloud

C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

The Cloud

By Mikhail Lermontov (1814–1841)

Translation of Nathan Haskell Dole

TO the giant cliff’s wide bosom straying

Came a golden cloud, and soon was sleeping.

In the early dawn it woke, and leaping,

Hurried down the blue sky, gayly playing.

On the old cliff’s wrinkled breast remaining,

Was a humid trace of dew-drops only.

Lost in thought the cliff stands, silent, lonely;

In the wilderness its tears are raining!