"Napoles weeps beneath the rain, its ancient stones kissed by tears, 

In the downpour's tender cadence, history reappears. 

Umbrellas twirl like dancers, in the wet, cobblestone expanse, 

Guarding secrets of Vesuvius, in every fleeting glance.

Petrichor mingles with pizza's scent, a fragrant, rain-soaked rhyme, 

In the melancholy drizzle, where past and present chime. 

Wandering beneath Napoles' weeping sky, 

I find solace in the rain, 

A poetic dance of nature, on this Italian terrain."