I CANNOT STOP THE RAIN

Why, my son, why do you sing,
This shack of ours, for a long time, has fought the wind
But this storm is like no other that has kissed these hills
So why, my son, why do you sing

Let prayers from your lips fall
Maybe the gods are awake, on whom we should call
In my heart, I wish that widowhood were not my own 
And soon we shall be relieved of this shack of a home.

Beautiful is the meadow of flowers and grass
The boundary lines of trees like the skies will last 
And so I sing, my dear mother, in the midst of my pain
Knowing that a heart of fear cannot stop the rain.

Wilford Barker.