When It Rains
When it rains, I often wonder,

What sadness there is among the gray clouds,

And in their dripping wet tears.

I wonder,

What kind of love their water gives

To the starving soil,

And to the withering shoots.
When it rains, the sky reminds me of the dead,

Forever mingling with the living, as if

I hear their whispers-

With the moaning of the wind.

Then I realize somewhat,

That I am not alone.

We are not alone.
When it rains, I remember the carefree days

Of my childhood years.

I was running around, wet clear-

My arms raised to the sky.

The winds were cool.
When it rains, I often wonder.

When it rains I often remember.

When it rains I can't help

But to think of you.