Just as we sat watch'n the rain drizzle,
ideas of June has ceased; give way to July.
Little children stood watch'n the birds whistle,
but under their roof, their hearts mostly rely.
The rain falls on their little heads,
and all the way they ran, ignoring the singing birds.
No scorch'n noted, no snow to freeze,
only but rainfall gather'n up high.
Overlapp'n those sultry days of idle bliss,
with black walnuts touch'n the blue sky.
July is the month when many kids are dreary,
when they play'd indoors till they get weary.
July was the month me grand pa was entomb'd,
twas 11th, the eve to a celebration.
His hair was comb'd, his body perfum'd,
and his skin wore heavenly lotion.
12th July, me dad first stare at his third son,
cos 12th of July was the day i was born.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hey! Thanks Mishra. i was not expecting anyone to like that piece.