Repeatedly remind me to bring an umbrella,
You say it often // rains here. It will rain,
Although I haven't encountered one yet.
Throughout the year,
I may only unfold it three // or four times.
While my drawer is filled // with those plastic covers.

It rains often,
I often encounter such questions.
As if I don't belong // to their world.
I'm someone who prefers to stay indoors.
I often see it, inside, // but it doesn't come to me.
I sit in the back. In cafés, // classrooms, at home.
Not often, and not willingly,

Walking in the rain,
Experiencing the freedom of wind and rain.
After all, why,
Must one suffer // in the cold and damp,
To cleanse pain, or to seek attention?
To be in a moving atmosphere, // to blend in,
To receive comfort and embrace,
The umbrella, why unfold it after all?

If unfolding it brings protection,
Why use the body to endure,
To defend such coming // from the natural world.
You say, what you want to do is protect, // not harm.

Would you call it a gift, // or punishment?