The first rain reminds me of the rising summer dust.
The rain doesn’t remember the rain of yesteryear.
A year is a trained beast with no memories.
Soon you will again wear your harnesses,
beautiful and embroidered, to hold sheer stockings:
The rain doesn’t remember the rain of yesteryear.
A year is a trained beast with no memories.
Soon you will again wear your harnesses,
beautiful and embroidered, to hold sheer stockings:
you mare and harnesser in one body. – Yehuda Amichai
