Don't pamper, or that cloud will surely Perch atop the crest. Will it thaw, or budge an inch, However much you request? It won't melt, oh no, it won't Totter from the peak Frozen aloof in vain conceit Will its feet on earth e'er rest! For thirsting birds and ploughed fields It won't send a drop of rain Once snowy white it turns alas These triflings seem a pain. It won't sweat and get all wet, For the mud and the slush of this earth ne'er fret, Castles up in the air alone It'll build with endless zest. Never pamper that cloud you meet It will perch atop the crest.
Translation-cum-transcreation of a Bengali poem মেঘটা (meghta, meaning “That Cloud”) by Premendra Mitra. It was published in his collection কখনও মেঘ (kokhono megh, meaning Cloud Sometimes).