The sky is painted, trembling, dripping

A rose does not fear rain, the rain a rose

Barefoot is the rose breathing earth, skipping

Collecting drops of dew, keeping noble pose

The flowers hold, enchanting in their grace

Rain is unchanging, like great tears for beauty

Petals wet, they bleed, droplets flood to race

Nothing more soft than a day that is rainy

And so on the rose is soaking here now

In its aura of crimson and clover

I walk and I manage to stop somehow

And I dream now of the sunshine looked over

Air is damp but drying, I miss the rain

Sky that is painted puts sunshine to shame