After a long lamentation, the rain
Now, cultivators' broken heart
Is sorrowless and less-pain;
All minds are free from dirt.
To let the scorching sun hide under
The clouds, appears the roaring thunder.
Darkness, all around the village
Men are returning from fields to home
As if, freedom from the cage.
Over heads, clouds are in making dome
To let them be full of pity
When finished all duty.
Now, long preserved hope is fulfil
Ending of scorching sunshine
Vitality is about to come in mill.
All are vital-fields of paddy, wheat or pine,
To let all rusty thought fall behind.
The new light of hope is rising in mind.
Now all worshippers' mind is pure
As its the God's real charity.
As they have power to endure
All are now in parity.
Let them be full of grain
Let them be free from all pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem