I feel a crying chill.
I can't work with my will,
Oh! angry raindrops, let me
cross the Maggie bridge.
Let the Lily river hide the moving ridge,
till I reach my dream villa.
I do see an angry gale.
Flying over a frenzy dale,
through rosewood into winter's pale.
I see a ghost of clouds.
not any cheering crowds
I see a foreign quail,
robbed on the road,
and crying loudly.
I am a wet fairy
walking hurry hurry,
I feel a fever in my liver.
The green river go with glory.
The wild wind made me tremble and shiver,
Is it rain or the firestorm?
I do not see a lorry,
Mercy, I have my umbrella,
and I escape rubella.
I sing through the way, my own sad story,
My days, which were best dull and hoary hoary,
Fate, you've got my maiden heart into some unfamiliar territory.
A beautiful imaginative write. Thought provoking with great imagery.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mercy my Moses! i have my umbrella- Gracious! I escape rubella- I sing my way mine own sad story- My days which were best dull and hoary hoary- you have my maiden heart.. rain, love, affection, desire emotion.. Rain becomes a great symbol in your poem. tha nk u dear poet. tony