Listen to the rain as it occurs to our eyes,
My sight had no question to ask
As to why the spitting lasted too long
And turned into showers so delightful.
How do we dangle our legs over a muddy bridge
When rainy days do disallow such practices?
How on Earth can you dissolve the acid into rain
When rain is a minor miracle, a liquid for pleasure?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem