She came
Without a warning
This afternoon
I had snoozed
In the sultry summer heat
She clapped her hands
In a thunder bolt
Startled I awoke
Or so I thought
My neck and chest
In a paroxysm of sweat
And there she was
The first summer rain
Dancing on roof-tops
To a music
That only silly gods conceive
I lay there unable to move
My limbs in motor paralysis
Beautiful is her dance
Let her perform
The distant mountains smelt
In the wafting winds
Of herbs, earth and forlorn love
And this night
I would sleep
My face pressed
Into a smelly pillow
Her dark locks
That smell a primeval past
Thank you summer rain
You are a dream
In which seeds buried conceive
A greenery and dreams
That man can never ever deserve
This is once again a lovely translation of your poem Ushnakaala Megham in Mother tongue which I enjoyed so much!
Beautifully penned sir...She clapped her hands....lovely sir. Enjoyed reading...the beautiful imagery. Thanks for sharing sir.
I love everything about the rain and can't wait for Spring's first thunderstorm. Persuasively penned my friend. Let the soothing sounds and smells bring you peace
Thank you, Kelly; may I call you so Your words have brought A summer rain of cool Into my arid world of poesy a much needed summer raiin, into my arid plains of poesy!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow- - -So beautifully penned.- - - -Summer rain and nostalgic memories.- - To quote some lines from the poem- - Beautiful is her dance Let her perform The distant mountains smelt In the wafting winds Of herbs, earth and forlorn love