The wind blows
Rains fall in drops
The thirst for clouds wakes up in the mind
Dad, pounce upon some rain and bring to me
To wipe off the strokes on my slate
I need water from the sky
Reed-fluffs soar in delight
The Meghamallar descends
Before whom do I narrate this event!
(Translated from Original Assamese by Krishna Dulal Barua)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem