The gray of the sky
called to me.
I answered in gentle tones.
However, I was too late.
The gray sky weeps.
Mist from clouds
lands upon the earth.
Drops of water
splatter far and wide.
My presence on this porch
must do some good.
The gray sky smiles
and weepy wet clouds shine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem