One day while composing poem on rain
My copy throughly drenched.
Oh! What thunder-shower!
My little drawing room at once
Turned into a shadowy ‘kadamba' bower.
One day while composing poem on summer
My copy suddenly caught fire
I'm also immediately reduced to ashes
Flying then beclouding the locality
Pale the all poem-lovers' faces.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem