Clouds

That's the white apple of the moon.
That's the red apple of sunset's tune.
Clouds from some unknown far away rush towards,
Then vanish on their way.
Clouds, why man horses racing high?
Clouds, why do we fly without a sight?
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 me and stay in hair like a daisy,
Sweet Clouds, why man horses racing high?
Clouds, why do we fly without a sight?
Please don't look down from up above,
Take us riding through the sky, oh clouds we love.