The Rain Cries Poem by Maria Deyana M.V.
The Rain Cries
Down the roofs the rain
is coming down,
falling,
crying.
Crying for
my childhood.
Memories emerge
of the childish joy.
Once…
No one
in my village now,
no swallows
no dove in its nest
no wind in the hair
no chamomiles
in the middle of the fields
no sense.
The rain falls
down the roofs
of my village,
crying…
Memories emerge,
the rain cries,
I’d cry, too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/29/2024 8:23:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
