And drops gently knock, So as not to be in a hurry to get drunk Drowsy, refreshed garden. The grass trembles. On the track Shuffles the sand, as if there Invisible stepping feet According to gravel and flowers. The garden shudders and mutters, Trustfully thunder-stormed, A downpour with a thin network wants To connect the earth with the sky. Closing my eyes, I stand, listening, As a wet garden sings in silence, How the rain is fresh Into the darkness of the agitated soul
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