I do not criticize the rain,
for I would most like to be rain,
pouring my body and being
over you. I do not mock the wind,
not when I wish it to carry
my caresses and kisses to you.
I do not shy from sleep, save now
as I write this poem for you,
for in dream perhaps I might find
a glimmer of you to fill me,
to hold this insufferable
longing. I await your coming thus,
with utmost anticipation.