Under rain

Slow rain is coming and going,
Gold wets curls.
The girl stands quietly at the door,
The girl is waiting.

Gray clouds, and thoughts are gray,
The Duma: "Will he come? Will not come?"
Boy, go, run quickly:
The girl is waiting!

With every moment, flying forward,
Child's heart is wiser.
Long, boy, at the first door
The girl is waiting?

Disclaimer: I just found these in my library. I do not have the rights to them,
I just them and decided to share them with you.