the promise of rain
by the encroaching storm
will you yield
when it racks your body,
when it
hurts
you?
the sweet cleansing, renewal
the promise of change
can you
change me, too, storm?
that growing nightfall
too powerful to be ignored, too
cold in its charm
can you gaze into this darkness,
will you like what you see
when your imagination is ripe
the promise of pleasure, of
pain
will you yield to this
rain?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem