The parasol was wet with rain.
She spun it quickly. Drops popped up.
Goddess Clare laughed; she laughed again.
The parasol was wet with rain.
Clare cheered to see men: tea in cup
drenched to hot soup, set to hiccup.
The parasol was wet with rain.
She spun it quickly. Drops popped up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem