Morning is to mourn,
The wind is hot;
The mind is dry;
Oh, What can I say?
How can I live?

Hours are terrible,
Chairs give pain,
Sun rays are pricking,
Cries of cuckoo.

Books of horrible tales,
Bitter food to eat,
Cracking sound of lullabies
Rusted talents.

Murmurs of memories
When would a rain come?
I can’t remember
The shape of rain drops.

The birds cry…
Sun became blood red
Afraid of dreadful dreams
Night came home as a drunkard.

Fearful darkness
Unknown sounds
Chill wind cuts my body;
Light sound of rain;

Switched off the table fan,
Sound of rain went off… Oh!
Groping hopes
No grudge at all

Repeating days, hours;
Minutes, seconds are dry!
And presents gallows to me,
I can’t allow them to win

The guilty face of the child,
The dreadful beauty of flowers,
As the hands of clock run,
River flows with a wild speed.

Oh, my brother come here!
The rain may come, as you say.
Sing your songs…
Love is immortal I say…

Don’t be scared
Come near to me
As the sun sets
You will be mine and only mine.

Yesterday I saw you,
Your hands are wet with blood
Your face of meaningless claims
But I knew you will return…

Like the waves in sea,
In my mind and memory,
Rain is waving far away…
Humid wind of peace

Without thunder…
Without floods,
Quiet and calm…
I know you will come…

Now you and I here…
All are gone for lost things…
You have a talent
But I am afraid you lost your heart.

Yes… It is the time of Summer rain
What I write is not right to write…
But it is the time to write!!