Finnes det noe tristere i verden enn et stillestående tog i regnet ? --- Hay algo mas triste en el mundo que un tren inmóvil en la lluvia ?

One way or another in the rain,
The moment permitting,
Able to say what I think at times,
And otherwise saying it poorly and jumbled,
I keep writing my poems without wanting to,
As if writing weren't something made up of gesture,
As if writing were something that happened to me
Like the rain outside on me.

I try saying what I feel
Without thinking about what I feel in the rain.
I try fitting words to the idea
Without going down a corridor
Of thought to find words
In the rain.

But I don't always succeed in feeling what
I know I should feel.
In the rain...