Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night
Dù Fǔ (712-770), translation by Brendan O’Kane
A good rain knows its proper time;
It waits until the Spring to fall.
It drifts in on the wind, steals in by night,
Its fine drops drench, yet make no sound at all.
The paths between the fields are cloaked with clouds;
A river-skiff’s lone light still burns.
Come dawn, we’ll see splashes of wet red –
The flowers in Chengdu, weighed down with rain.
Well that’s the rain in my home town Chengdu. It floats in the air, it touches your skin, it perches on your hair. You smell it, but you can’t hear it. It goes on and on and on.
It doesn’t do such things in Zurich. It rushes in, it splashes, and within 10min, it’s gone.