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
谁能把雨解释得
让我满意?
它狂狂地泼 霏霏地下
它如慈母的手
抚摸战壕中我的.面颊;
他淹没流浪者
饥渴的灵魂;
他锈蚀了时代广场中
时间的钟摆。
透过记忆镂刻的结晶体，
雨点纷纷扑向我
渴望中半透明的阳光。
于是我看到彩虹;
我童稚的天真
永远遨游于湛蓝的太空。
