The noise of an ambulence...
Blending with the noise of rain
The lights of streetlamps...
Reflecting on puddles
Flourish more and more
In silence,
In stillness of its own
And I refuse the morning,
To give reflections away...
Beware, beware
For when it is past and gone
You will miss
The very fair senses;
Of nature,
The raindrops and the smell...
Getting lost in cityful dawn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem