drops that find happiness in some hearts and sadness in others
Streaks of lightning herald the rain
Instilling terror, she always reigns
Streets and parks her water logged
Can't do things entirely bogged
With uncertainty she pours and pours
Poorer dwellings destroyed to core
The wrath of Gods they say she is
In normalcy she is our bliss
I continue to pray to her
That she may reign in yonder years
If she must pour in seasoned bouts
Our discomfort, she should not pout
Spare us she must in ways so true
From sun and moon, should take a cue
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem