White There's something about my city - Here angel | English Poetry

"White There's something about my city - Here angels walk through the clouds, With their backpacks on. The clouds, that are clinging On to the eucalyptus leaves, And are waiting to drip down At a time of their own. Here the meadows run up Till the blue mountains, to get lost forever, And sings here a river named Song. Tomorrow, when you are back to your hustles, Do remember, that a lonely cloud is still waiting, At some hairpin bend. It would wait for you to take you to the other side Of the mystic mountain; It would wait, till you come back here again. ©Kaushik Ghosh"

White There's something about my city -
Here angels walk through the clouds,
With their backpacks on.
The clouds, that are clinging
On to the eucalyptus leaves,
And are waiting to drip down
At a time of their own.

Here the meadows run up
Till the blue mountains, to get lost forever,
And sings here a river named Song.

Tomorrow, when you are back to your hustles,
Do remember, that a lonely cloud is still waiting,
At some hairpin bend.
It would wait for you to take you to the other side
Of the mystic mountain;
It would wait, till you come back here again.

©Kaushik Ghosh

Kaushik Ghosh

White There's something about my city - Here angels walk through the clouds, With their backpacks on. The clouds, that are clinging On to the eucalyptus leaves, And are waiting to drip down At a time of their own. Here the meadows run up Till the blue mountains, to get lost forever, And sings here a river named Song. Tomorrow, when you are back to your hustles, Do remember, that a lonely cloud is still waiting, At some hairpin bend. It would wait for you to take you to the other side Of the mystic mountain; It would wait, till you come back here again. ©Kaushik Ghosh