Gabriel Garcia Marquez- "its raining in this poem"

its raining. the afternoon

is a blade of cloud.Raining.
The afternoon is soaked
in your sadness.
At times the wind comes
with its song, at times...
I feel my soul pressed
against your absent voice.

Raining. And im thinking
of you. And dreaming.
No one will come this afternoon
to my grief, shut tight.
No one. only your absence
that pains me hour by hour.
Tomorrow your presence
will return with the rose.

I think-- the rain falls--
of your tender gaze.
Girl like fresh fruit,
joyful like a fiesta,
today your name is twilighting
here in my poem.