The saddest moment,
Feeling the last of your caress
The months of longing,
Weeks of worries
At the start of the season,
We worry, we have not seen your carriers
We have not yet smelt your fragrance
It has been weeks since your season has started,
Yet your foot prints do not mark the red earth,
The elders are mumbling that you have forgotten us,
The young ones say, do not worry, she will come
Every evening Chief sits and stares at your path,
And can not see you,
The young men are sent out to look for your signs
The wise men are at a loss
I feel the rumbling, see the shadow on the ground,
I smell you fragrance, overwhelming
I look up, yet can not speak,
I feel the first of your touches, your caress
Everywhere the people rejoice:
You have come,
The Rain is falling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow, rain brings joy to the people, and i think i can clear get the story within this context and it is lovely