I shall love you like a sunny day.
You will be so warm and want to stay.
Then
the rain comes.
First, you cry
because rain has never felt this good.
You dance and splash around.
It's the vacation you never had.
Then
the rain comes
on all the wrong days.
You find yourself running...
...running...
running down the windowpane.
When you become the rain,
this little storm's work is done.
I shall love you like a happy tear
but did you see the forecast, my dear?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem