When you sit in quiescence by the windowsill,
The sky sheds tears of joy for your beautiful face.
The wind starts to embrace you to a gentle chill
Assuring to bask you in such a serene grace.
Small rivulets appear on your clear windowpane.
The raindrops fall on delicate pitter-patters.
Each dropp tries to wash out your every sad pain
And the joy it bring from swiftly gushing waters.
The cheerful feeling of a rainy sonata
Enveloped from the ever-changing, drifting clouds.
A breathtaking scene of a colorful vista
Brought by a blanket of silver-lined velvet shrouds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem