Rain, the soothing drizzle, sound of drops
start tapping gently on the glass.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, each dropp plops
with an intriguing, happy splash.
More drops keep hitting the glass and roof,
stronger and faster, soft and unique,
poth, pooth, a drip, and then some plooth......
a grand symphony of drops mystique
.
All living things are celebrating,
the wilting leaves spring back high.
Great expectations are overtaking,
everything is blessed by sky.
Let's have a glass of heated wine
on this occasion as good as any
that gives us hope and feels so fine.
One, even two won't be too many.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem