I saw a droplet of water,
Lingering on the ledge.
It's fate seemed to be,
On the very edge.
But as I looked on,
Nothing seemed to be wrong.
This water droplet,
Hung on, hung on.
I tried to capture one,
In the pouring rain.
But it remained the same,
The same, the same.
It's fate was determined.
It would splatter when it fell.
My hand couldn't intervene,
Not even if I meant well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem