The rain's pounding away

        at the rusty eaves.

Twirling, sliding bubbling foam -

        well, that's rain.

You too, and I should walk now

        as free as that

on cloud, on air, the meadow

        and the vapor roads.

Move around up there and below

        like this liquid thing,

flowing into human life on rooftops

        and on shoes.

(trans. by J. Kessler, from C. Milosz,

A Book of Luminous Things)