I'm happiest when the weather
is gloomy and threatening rain.
Its tendency, this low pressure,
forces most people to remain
inside comfortable houses.
Outside becomes much quieter
assuming a shushed quietus
that wouldn't normally occur
if the day were a sunny one;
so I pray that this low holds fast
concealing the intrusive sun
behind the looming overcast
while I revel in its stillness
and its lugubrious bleakness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem