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!