I throw away the umbrella I am holding up
and walk absent-mindedly,
being drenched by you, rain,
because I want to wash clean away
all my sins, which have become dirty from living in the world
and are darker than an ink stick.
I have been rained on all day,
by rain that pours like cats and dogs.
The spring rain macerates the dirt of sin,
the summer rain washes off the thick layer of dirt of sin,
and the fall rain penetrates deep inside and washes the sin of the conscience.
Then you cross over a winter mountain, become snow, fall heavily,
and cover the whole Earth with white.
Your image is like the white hearts
of lives, which wash clean the dirt of bodies and consciences
throughout spring, summer and fall.
The Creator parabolizes like this
with nature through me.
