It felt as if it had rained for centuries
Drips fell ding-dong remorseless, over the drowned fields
As if summer had been deleted altogether
Even a pope might lose his faith in prayer
The Thinker up his plinth
Was pondering arks and floods
And then, like T-Rex loose in a china shop
The sun burst out
Such a big thing
In our tiny world of happenings
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem