When summer's fiery days end at last,
And vapoury clouds shroud the azure's visage,
The notes of 'Malhar' quench a thirsty heart;
Alas, I hear the advent of a storm.
The winding river nurtures crops and dreams,
Her current brings joy unbridled to all,
A friend to lovers, Muse is she to poets;
All I see is a reservoir of tears.
The solitary traveller walks as evening falls,
And delights in the glowworm in the dark,
A tender-glowing gem in Nature's lap;
I note the simmering fire in her heart.
In the vernal riot of flowery colours
Is written love and friendly affection,
A time for loving hearts to offer songs;
For me to embrace smilingly my doom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem