Rain
From the French of
Emile Verhaeren
By Alma Strettell
Long as unending threads, the long-drawn rainInterminably, with its nails of grey,Athwart the dull grey day,Rakes the green window-pane—So infinitely, endlessly, the rain,The long, long rain,The rain.
Since yesternight it keeps unravellingDown from the frayed and flaccid rags that clingAbout the sullen sky,The low black sky;Since yesternight, so slowly, patiently,Unravelling its threads upon the roads,Upon the roads and lanes, with even fallContinual.
Along the milesThat 'twixt the meadows and the suburbs lie,By roads interminably bent, the files
Of
