the rains are not heavy
but gentle
like the soft hairs of
a two-year old
creature
it gives the sound of
the sonorous earth
there is no tapping on
the roof
there is only the dripping
of a water flowing
from the gutter
to the stinking canals
there is this weakness of
the paper getting
wet and then laying flat
on the cobbled street
the waters walk like an old
man without a hat
without a coat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem