European Elegies/Summer/The cloud
87.THE CLOUD
Last of the rain-king's retinue,Alone thou marchest through the blue!Alone thou darkenest our way!Alone thou saddenest the day!
But, now, thy night shut heaven out;Stern lightning wound its coils about;Thy thunders shook the trembling hours,And drenched the avid earth with showers.
Enough, begone! Thy time is sped.The earth revives; the storm has fled;And gay winds, tossing tree-tops high,Expel thee from the placid sky.
From the Russian of Alexandr Sergeevich Pushkin.