'Tis easier to catch the rain-
From underneath the sky-
Then to loose the suns bright rays-
When love begins to die-
But if the rains somehow should stop-
Through perhaps natures air-stream flow-
I would take me then my rains last dropp-
And search-out Love's Elusive Rainbow-
I'd hold it fast inside of my hand-
And grasp its intoxicating hold-
Upon the wings of a white dove-
I'd search for a pot of Loves Gold-
At at the end of Sunbeams Glow-
The amber light-oh never receding-
The world now as white as driven snow-
I'd hold this for endless time-
And watch as the New Love begins to grow-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem