By Luis G. Dato
The rain envelopes every ground,
In gloom and mystery profound,
It stabs with endless, silver spears,
And Earth hides with her hands her tears.
When rain is coming I’ve known long,
For rain is old, and life’s not young,
If in the skies we see the swallow,
Sure as its flight the rain must follow.
Now will the green earth know the plow,
Of this it takes not long to know,
When sods are turned, we see the sight
Of heron’s wings like kerchiefs bright.
There is a melody in rain,
Old songs forgotten found again,
As the rain falls like flowing lace,
And Earth hides with her hands her face.
