The first rain reminds me <br />Of the rising summer dust. <br />The rain doesn't remember the rain of yesteryear. <br />A year is a trained beast with no memories. <br />Soon you will again wear your harnesses, <br />Beautiful and embroidered, to hold <br />Sheer stockings: you <br />Mare and harnesser in one body. <br /> <br />The white panic of soft flesh <br />In the panic of a sudden vision <br />Of ancient saints. <br /> <br /> <br />Translated from the Hebrew by Barbara and Benjamin Harshav<br /><br />Yehuda Amichai<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-first-rain/
