It rains gently on the city.
(Arthur Rimbaud)
It cries in my heart
As it rains on the city;
Which is this languor
Who penetrates my heart?
O soft noise of the rain
By ground and on the roofs!
For a heart which is bored
O song of the rain!
It cries without reason
In this heart which is nauseated.
What! null treason?...
This mourning is without reason.
It is well the worst sorrow
To know why
Without love and hatred
My heart has such an amount of sorrow!
Lovesongs without words , 1874