Monsoon on the move
Maids of the heavens are out in the air
Sprinkling the waters of affluence.
The shepherd is out tending the sheep
And HE is seen going places with his herd.
Bolts are heard, the trumpets that herald:
The way of the Lord and his cavalcade.
It’s all the way found that virtue is within:
Deep in us, and in all the things around.
The pebbles of drizzle we simply wade out
Come with a tinge of life and a feel of the Lord.
When monsoon is on the move, we come to know
The ways of all goodnesses are on the move, too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very nice! crisp yet it covers the innately wonderful aspects of nature in a fine and subtle way.