Here you will find the Poem To The Clouds of poet Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
Clouds--ye eternal wanderers in hunting grounds of air, High o'er the verdant Steppes, wide through the blue of heaven-- Coursing fraternal,--say, must ye exiled as I From the beloved North to the far South be driven? O tell me, were ye outlawed thus by Fate's behest? Drives ye forth open hate, or secret grudge flee ye? Follows ye unappeased an evil-doer's curse? Are ye pursued by poisonous words of calumny? Ah no! Only from the unfruitful earth ye fly; Free are your sufferings, your blessedness is free, Ye know not wretchedness that holds us here in chains, Know not the joy of home or exile's misery!
