the gray rain fell
the sun was neither east nor west
the ashen glow of sky
hid the intentions of light
the wet leaves of trees
drooped like tired old men
the warbler found shelter
in the darker green of the oak
the rain fell and whispered
yet I could not hear the words
the Spanish moss hung lower
black beneath somber limbs
so it is with rainy days
withholding secret impulses
beyond the ken of birds or trees
beyond the sense of men
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem