Little drops of falling rain
Descending together, yet apart
At times conjoining, and others
Pulling away, a complicated dance
Marked with magnificent displays
With a finale of splashing puddles;
Each dropp its own being
Holding its own glimmer and shine
As it finds itself pulled too
And froo by the wind about it
Trying to trace a path
Of its own among the many;
The storm above crashes a tune
For the dancers to follow
And the electric glow
Accentuates the complex simplicity
Of which those taking part
Know not, and see not;
As their death, in all its
Awful wonder draws closer
They whisper the words unheard
And cry out woefully
What a world where rain drops
Dance so, living, dying
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have a great imagination and a creative expression of words. Lovely