Raindrops fall from the sky
at their own intensity
at their own time
sometimes in a hurry,
sometimes sieving down,
sometimes accompanied by hail,
sometimes together with lightning
causing steam to rise
out of the hot tarred roads
sinking in, washing away,
streaming, flooding
like a living thing deciding
when and where and how much to shed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem