Water as rain. Valentina Basso It’s raining on millions of roofs It’s raining on millions of fields And I, from inside my kitchen, Am looking at the rain fall down slowly Like a loving snail. Bortolussi Chiara METAPHOR The rain, sound of a musical instrument.
It’s raining on millions of roofs
It’s raining on millions of fields
And I, from inside my kitchen,
Am looking at the rain fall down slowly
Like a loving snail.
The rain, sound of a musical instrument.
The rain’s fingers noisily hit the tiles of roofs, keys of a large piano.
Rain, an alphabet with a thousand sounds.
Rain is like the sad weeping of God, poured to clean away the sin from souls.
Is like a fountain
A SUMMER STORM
It rains. The warm earth
Hears a crackle in the distance.
The agony of the dreadful war
Is over. Now we believe
God is in the rain
But the worst is still to come:
The Sky starts thundering
and threatening hailstorm
It ruins fruits their feast.
RAINTears of melancholy
suspended in a grey veil
that darken the soul
with whispers noisily
The rain on the glass is the music of a thousand diamonds on the ground.
a lonely and melancholy nymph,
cold and insensitive
destructive and inexorable,
it’s got an eternal and mysterious
You, that flow
from the fountain
full of remembrances
you steal away my sadness
like a light
in the darkness.
Rain is sad and cold
as if announcing death:
when it I see,
anguish hangs over me
and serenity dissipates,
indeed my soul it steals.
Rain is reaching out to stroke something soft
Rain is getting wet to run after someone.
Rain is leaving everything behind and dream of a
You softly fall on our roofs,
crystalline, transparent, silent
you sound like a lullaby
when you gracefully lean
on the houses.
Rain, you cool the hot summer
and our hearts are relieved.
You are like a little girl
perfect, pure, innocent
breath of life,
a gift of the spring.
I cannot stand anything cold and wet, but the rain has something special.I like its sound. I like to see it when it falls. I like to listen to it because it means something to me.I particularly remember one day a few months ago. I was alone in the house and outside the sky was
darkening. Looking out of the window I saw that it was beginning to rain. In the garden the raindrops bounced off the leaves of the trees, so, I turned off the television and in silence I lay on the sofa and I concentrated to listen to the noise of the rain.The ticking was like the beating of time an old and ancient clock, full of history, like the one in my sitting room. Then, staring at the rain, falling from the abundant gray clouds, I began to reflect on the day that was nearly over. The rain is a good friend when you think, and I remember that day because I began to think about my future, what kind of person I would become and what I would be in my life.
I meditated so much that I thought that I would have liked to be just like the rain, independent and free to fall at my will.
You're the shrill crying
Of his celestial sky,
you're the burst of tears that
remove the smiles from
the happy terrestrial faces
Rain, never ending thought.
The rain falls down like dry leaves in autumn.
When I look at the raindrops my memory starts to travel back in time
It makes me smile about every single thing that reminds me of the good things happend
It takes me to a reality of happiness and nobody and nothing can separate me from it.