When there is drought,
the lap of mother Earth is dry,
seeds of weeds almost infertile,
Winds are harsh,
Sunshine is at best,
Mercury is roaring high,
Skins are being tanned.
In this scenario,
Neither the winds,
Nor the clouds are important,
The most important is the,
First drop of rain,
who not only soothes the dryness of Earth,
But raises the hope of life,
Hope to come alive,
Once again,
Only joy no pain,
the music of life is on,
beyond our ecstasy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! Great poetry, Sehdev sharma. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.