The dry earth opens up
into fissures breathing fire
the withered leaves hang
their head in shame
the little butterfly goes hiding
all the winged beings are resting
the toiling man rushes home
to the side of his woman warm
the earth is silent except for groans
of dying plants, decaying man
rottening beastly beings
the dried wells, sunken sockets
together they await alike the arrival
of the grand old evil
now turned to a blessing
the torrential rains lashing
lashing, beating hard
cold wet blows on to the mud
the earth laughs out
(a woman possessed)
hair hanging out
the more the lashes
the more the joy
like an old shrunken shrivelled
flesh opening upto violent love
panting now the the rain
matching movement the earth
they dance and lo! behold
the offsprings the flooded rivers, laden crops
joy to man, beast and his winged friends.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem