Rain falling into my mind, leaving me drenched even in the
sunshine, never being able to be dried out while sitting
here in the midst of a sorrowful gathering.
Saddened by an interior mood, showing itself to my mind,
insisting that there is only this propriety that is allowed
to be entranced in this existence.
Noting periods of essence, filling a state of mind, coming
open to figures of tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem