today i listen to the rain pouring
from the roof to the gutter to the polyvinyl pipe
down to the ground which i filled with pebbles
the water drains to the garden where the roots
take all the joyous time of seeping and drinking
the pure taste of life's waters
it is music to my ears, these slow dripping
much like the rhythm of your classical poetry
Catullus and Sappho and Emily and Pablo.
i realize then that my poems are too inferior
than those unwritten by the grace of nature.
I will not be at a loss, for soon, i shall imitate them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem