The rain comes nearly every day now,
seems like it will always rain.
But those who've lived awhile here,
looking out from our umbrellas, know
that soon the rain will stop,
the hills will burn,
we'll long for wetness, as we
suffer through six months
without a drop.
Knowing that the sun will shine again is really what keeps us going, isn't it? Scarlett
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very grounded in reality with a tinge of time and thought. Hi Max! Linda