while coming back, the childish rains!
A naughty downpour that climbed from the back,
And the one that took my left hand in her hand,
the other gripped my right hand as she knows,
whatever he is carrying will be picked out
from the bag with this powerful hand,
but I am refreshed by a fine mild shower,
on my bosom with her lips on my forehead.
Rains!
While I was dying for loneliness I needed!
You,
obliged the tired man with kisses and hugs,
and reminded me,
the fatigues of the day are over,
but for whom it was a day of struggle,
are now full of rains of love,
and a beautiful lady is standing on the doors,
she is old, still gold,
My salute to this great grandmother!
With a cloud on her back,
another holding her right hand,
the third with her hand in the right hand,
and the amazing fourth with both hands,
around her neck.
I accelerated my motor bike.
Rains!
You are wonderful!
You encourage me to live,
but I am living for the rains of love,
that are waiting for me at my sweet home!