Brilliant stars are not gleaming
Over the rough water of the lake,
Behind the dark clouds of heaven,
Waiting for the summer storm to break.
In the village the rain is falling,
Quickly creating large puddles on the ground,
In the distance rumbling thunder is heard
With heavy clouds lingering all around.
Slowly comes at last the morning
Waking up the saturated earth,
Filling hearts with beauty and splendor
And forgetting about the storm's birth.
The sun is now shining to dry the earth,
In the streets are sounds of cheer,
Noisy and energetic activities of children
Expressing their exuberance for all to hear.
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