It begins to rain.
Some droplets here and there,
Uninteresting to say the least,
Yet it will suffice for now.

It begins to pour.
The sky darkens, the wind blows,
An applause for the beauty of this song,
And it ought to suffice for now.

It begins to storm.
The heavens split into a multitude,
The cries of the winds and earth ravaging all,
It is sufficient now.

It begins to fall.
The clouds shatter, the mirror breaks,
The weeping and mourning continue,
It is overwhelming now.

But yonder,
It is raining somewhere else.