The Stranger

Tell me, enigmatical man, whom do you love best, your father, your mother, your sister, or your brother?
      I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother.
      Your friends?
      Now you use a word whose meaning I have never known.
      Your country?
      I do not know in what latitude it lies.
      Beauty?
      I could indeed love her, Goddess and Immortal.
      Gold?
      I hate it as you hate God.
      Then, what do you love, extraordinary stranger?
      I love the clouds...the clouds that pass...up there... up there...the wonderful clouds!