SEASON of rain, with sorrows and pain,
A cloud up in the sky shouts, weeps, and wants to cry—
It is a gift of heaven
A work with perfection;
Roses, lands, and plants
Those were dusty, now all are clear at a glance.
The image is pure and bright,
It gives the beauty with the night’s delight.
Like Earth, we are the mirror of it,
We weep tears, and sometimes we’re bled;
We have this boon that we’ll never forget,
It purges the soul, cleans the heart
From all our sins which are
In our bodies have a part.
What’s next after that rainy day?
What’s next after that tearing way?
The maturing sun is up watching us
To enlighten us and help us finding ourselves.
What’s done is done
For it’s a new road for every one
To start to make it “has begun.”
So strong I am like a new-born child;
The journey began with eyes wide open wild.
No fear, no tear, no sorrow
No more needs to borrow;
I have everything: truth and reality
From “up in the sky” they are a charity
Which are sent from God, God Almighty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so perfect the arrangment of your ideas is elegant lovely can i call u the handsome poet? ?