How poignant they are!
The tiny drops of rain,
Pouring in unison,
Waking the slumbering pain.
Drops of rain in the olden days,
Sang the songs of our merry souls,
Now they appear mourners,
Of our dreary hearts to console.
Walking lonsome in the woods,
I trace those rainy seasons,
Finding them gone with the winds,
I make my own rainy seasons.