In the rain and dark clouds there is tenderness and care
and through the icy fingers of the raindrops in my face
an infinite and warm love fills my eyes, and I smile.

How can you, you that lived all your lives in the rains' cold embrace,
not love her completely?
Those like me, who grew in the distant lands of the sun,
we know.

All water is love,
and rain, with her blessed icy fingers,
is love given freely,
uncompromisingly.

How can you not love it?