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(shuí)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(zhàn)壕中我的面頰;

他淹沒(méi)流浪者

饑渴的靈魂;

他銹蝕了時(shí)代廣場(chǎng)中

時(shí)間的鐘擺。

透過(guò)記憶鏤刻的結(jié)晶體，

雨點(diǎn)紛紛撲向我

渴望中半透明的陽(yáng)光。

于是我看到彩虹;

我童稚的天真

永遠(yuǎn)遨游于湛藍(lán)的太空。