I let the rain fall on me
At the expense of my enemy;
I will not move or hide
Till I am soaked on every side.
I am wrong, people say
Because they do not know agony is a pleasure;
Why don't they taste the fresh drops,
To savour the real leisure.
Is it now a walk or a trip I need
When there is nothing on which to feed?
Drops of labour and sweat
Have rather made my comportment so neat.
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