Rain

Who can explain the rain

to my satisfaction?

It pours, it drizzles;

it sweeps my forehead

motherly cool while

I am staying in the trench;

it drowns the thirsty soul

of Skid Row; it rusts

time-minded Times Square.

Through a prism of carved

memory the raindrops are

apportioned to my hankering

for the translucent sun.

So I vision rainbows.

My childlikeness

travels forever.

雨

誰能把雨解釋得

讓我滿意?

它狂狂地潑 霏霏地下

它如慈母的手

撫摸戰壕中我的面頰;

他淹沒流浪者

饑渴的靈魂;

他銹蝕了時代廣場中

時間的鐘擺。

透過記憶鏤刻的結晶體，

雨點紛紛撲向我

渴望中半透明的陽光。

于是我看到彩虹;

我童稚的天真

永遠遨游于湛藍的太空。