Rain, a May rain has covered the sky with a ringing shroud.
Thunder, the thunder roared on the rooftops and scared all the cats away.
I opened the window and a the cheerful wind swept everything off the table -
Stupid verses I used to write in the suffocatin and sad emptiness.
The May thunder burst out and the revels, like a stormy and intoxicating wave,
Poured out: "Hey, get up, jump and follow me.
Go out in the yard and run in the puddles at least until morning.
Watch those funny and holy kids running about."
Waterdrops on my face - it's just the jain, or perhaps is it me crying.
The rain washed everything away and my soul, starting to cry, suddenly got soaked.
It started to stream away from the house toward unmown sunny meadows,
And, having turned into a sail, flew off with the wind toward unexplored worlds.
And I imagined : the city flooding with cheerful people.
They all went out under the rain, singing something alltogether, and, gosh, dancing.
Forgetting about shame and the danger of sickness and its altereffects,
The people under the rain, as a salute, were celebrating the thunder - the first thunder of Spring.