caught out in the rain

I don't know what you think about me, but I say

with my hand on my fountain that I'm a river.

So please, beautifully, come to my riparian valley.

Wash your eyes in my water, so you can see me

and to see yourself how handsome you are with

your timid reflection mirrored inside my stream.

Look at me and let me those drops that know

how to dance an impeccable waltz with the time,

one that reinvents your face in my liquid mirror.

For being a river, I ask you to seat on my stones

and to listen to about how and who sings to you.

Walk with your dry soles in my water, as everyone

to believe me, when I'm talking about how perfect

is your silhouette but ignores me, cos I don't know

if I really want you to swim in me, for I'm so afraid.

I'm too afraid I'll stop myself from my own course.

So better you taste my water, so I can flow, gently,

in your body, upstream and downstream, shaking

in you, and, with your will, me to become your font.

I don't know what you think about me, but I say

with my hand on your fountain, that I am a river.

So please be nice. If you think of leaving me, it's ok.

Do it. You're already caught out in the rain with me.