This morning the rain is sieving down
while I drive my motorbike
to town to get a few things
in the shops
and I have to visit the Internet café.
The drops of rain is somewhat blinding
and my leather jacket is nice and hot
and the helmet guards my head,
but my jean is really soaked
and when I stop
it’s a great thunderstorm
with rain pouring down.
People walk with umbrellas
while some
with shopping bags above their heads
run to the nearest shelter
and here and there
a car is waiting for another to pull out
in the full parking aria
and I wish that the rain
will disappear for a while.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem