Like city's rain, my heart
Rains teardrops too. What now,
This languorous ache, this smart
That pierces, wounds my heart?
Gentle, the sound of rain
Pattering roof and ground!
Ah, for the heart in pain,
Sweet is the sound of rain!
Tears rain-but who knows why?-
And fill my heartsick heart.
No faithless lover's lie? . . .
It mourns, and who knows why?
And nothing pains me so--
With neither love nor hate--
A simply not to know
Why my heart suffers so.
Is this the Verlaine poem?
"Like city's rain, my heart . . ."
The rain falls gently on the town. Arthur Rimbaud
Like city's rain, my heart Rains teardrops too. What now, This languorous ache, this smart That pierces, wounds my heart? Gentle, the sound of rain Pattering roof and ground! Ah, for the heart in pain, Sweet is the sound of rain! Tears rain-but who knows why?- And fill my heartsick heart. No faithless lover's lie? . . . It mourns, and who knows why? And nothing pains me so-- With neither love nor hate-- A simply not to know Why my heart suffers so.