It’s raining and …



There is a scent of rain.

It’s the scent of earth

Having drunk its fill of the evening rain,

The shy fragrance of wet pollen

And weed-flowers.

(If you have a nose for such things)

Perceive the flirtatiousness of rain

How the scent of soaked earth

Flirts with the fragrance of wet flowers

Calling in fragrant songs;

Come ye lovely flowers

Come and bury your seed.

Come in your wetness

Come hide your seed in me.


Let me wrap your seed in the warmth of my womb.


Come earthling (you with the tiny waist)

Let me hide my seed in you.

Its raining.

– Khorosiv

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