Rain does not make a noise — it sings,
just like the tears are a melody;
they are a hymn to loneliness,
a song your heart composed.
Today it sings with unison
to quiet and pristine raindrops.
Rain does not care about your sins;
it will wash off
the sinister, the grim.
That who shall be left is you —
only at once you have accepted
how the past is gone,
the future is not here yet,
and all you have — today
and velvet singing of the rain.
So let your heart be torn,
and let it sing
before the sun is out
and rain has dropped its final tear.