She walks down a street
in Central London
on the sunny side of course
and is dumbfounded by the fact
that it is raining on the other side of the street.
It falls into her mind as if it were a dream
but a dream that's real.
She crosses over and holds out her hand.
Raindrops collect on her palm.
She crosses over again and watches them evaporate
on her outstretched hand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem