Place the flowers gently here
and don't disturb the graveside crying.
The rain that falls on days like these
mingles with the wind's sad sighing.
No precious drop of sunshine's mine
I cannot carry empty mirth,
all that I have is the cold, silent rain–
drops on my face, lying flat on the earth.
One drop in the ocean full
of this cruel life's endless pain,
but my soul's carried all it can hold,
in desperation all I can sob is,
bring the rain.
And if the rain will never stop,
please make it a gentle falling one;
and somehow, till my strength is gone,
I will hold on, then comes the sun.