Good Rain: A Night in Spring
The good rain knows its season.
Come spring, it comes to life again;
With the wind, so stealthily in the night,
Moistens all things, so delicate, so silent
On the wild paths, clouds all black.
From river skiff, a lamp, the single light
In morning's glow, the red wet spots;
Flowers weigh down upon the Brocade Mandarin.
Come spring, it comes to life again;
With the wind, so stealthily in the night,
Moistens all things, so delicate, so silent
On the wild paths, clouds all black.
From river skiff, a lamp, the single light
In morning's glow, the red wet spots;
Flowers weigh down upon the Brocade Mandarin.
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