Waking up to torrents
of bucketing down sky
Day full of nothingness
to only sit back & enjoy
An incessant cacophony
pounding on the tin roof
Full advent of monsoons
needs not another proof
Umbrellas all but natural
old wallis & mackintosh
For an abundant frenzy
to get wet & others slosh
Streets are akin to rivulets
drains filled unto the edge
Rekindling of old nostalgia
& for latent urges dredge
Weave of a natural magic
on its own trying to unfold
A near tranquil indolence
just to capture & behold
A feel for finding an easel,
some colors and a brush
To paint a picture perfect
with shades of green lush
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem