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Poems about rain. Nothing days. Grey that is a good grey even when it is not all wanted. Feeling fall in the tail end of the middle of summer. Poems about rain that do not mind the rain, that try to fit with rain. Poems about rain that do not talk about rain, that begin after and end before rain.

Since I do not understand copyright (and was recently reprimanded for something foolishly copyright-related) here follows the tail of a wonderful poem about rain translated by George Szirtes, from the Hungarian of Zsuzsa Rakovszky. And here is the poem in full.

why
should we go out and do
things do nothing nothing
flop on the bed together your
arm under my neck for
a long time since nothing
can happen for a long time
no going out now for
a long time it will rain
now for a long time it
will rain for a long time

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