Rain, rain, O rain,
Come on and rain
And let me forget
What would happened
With incessant rain.
What would happened,
There would be more
Croaking of frogs,
More buzzing of flies.
The sky whistles,
The clouds crackle,
And with the babbles
Of my grand-daughter
I got all pleasures.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Once again you make me look froward to seeing my grand daughter, The word babble is unusual in this contextt but works excellently.