The rain is pounding on the roof,
it makes a rhythmic din,
the metal amplifies the sound,
but won't let it come in.
A lot of folks hate this weather,
I can't blame them for that,
but for some reason this dull noise
feels relaxing and glad,
especially when I'm in bed,
drift in and out of sleep,
deep, fleeting satisfaction that
there is no way to keep…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem