At only the rain's end
will I breathe my own
sweet silence
At only the rain's end
will spirits no longer shatter in
broken portraits
When our minds have fallen
deep in a well of patience,
and our hunger smothered
with timid pretense...
Will we not be born?
Maybe then my friend,
maybe only at the rain's end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem