Sitting on a balcony
watching the rain
under the street lights fall
as cars pass with windscreen wipers
going to and fro
to the rhythm of the rain,
people with umbrellas
hop, skip and jump around
the puddles here and there
while I’m sitting on a balcony
under the evenings dying light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem