She rages! Child of Rain and Stone...
Stone, easing not the falls she takes,
takes leave, that he might weep alone.
Alone, he grieves until she wakes.
Wakes held to mourn what Rain he'd known,
known too, will push the River so,
so, tiring of the moss he's grown,
grown wild, she'll rise and let him go....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem