Classic Poem

I love the Rain,
But she is a sad lady—
She weeps and weeps.
She is silvery and beautiful,
But I do not need her;
I can find the likes of her, any day, in my heart.

But oh, it is the Wind I love,
The wooer with laughter,
He is my true lover!
He snatches away the silvery veil of the sad lady,
He changes her into a huntress who races with him on the mountains,
He turns the raindrops in her hair into cold jewels,
And her tears to little birds.

It is the Wind I love,
The laughing, racing, starry Wind from the outer spaces,
He is my true lover!