There's a patter of rain on the window pane
And a clatter of feet in the dim-lit lane
And a sound of wheels as now and again
A traveller passes by.
There's a flash of light in the starless night
That puts the shadows to startled flight
And offers the eye a fleeting sight
Of walkers hurrying by.
In the sweeping trees and the night-cat's sneeze
Is heard the echo of the squalling breeze
As if scurrying on in swift reprise
Of the wet wind's drawling sigh.
The storm-swept street lends speed to feet
That otherwise would stroll to meet
Approaching hands admit defeat
And wave a curt goodbye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem