Was it true,

sleep depends on tears?

To refill the well

that had dried up by day,

Or to wet the lids, at the least,

by dreaming sad dreams,

With that tearful hope,

had the sleep come by night?

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On the empty wall of my room

I think I'll put a picture of the rain. --

Hitting the ground,

And getting up to ankles,

The rain will be wetting my socks

And trousers from below;

Then my eyes will follow

Roof-edges,

Streets,

Sidewalks,

...tick, tick, tick...

Everything in the picture,

Until catching a black brolly,

And the shiny enamel shoes...

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