The Rain Poem by Kinshuk Banik

Rain, rain, the welcome rain,
That comes down from heaven.
That nourishes and nurtures life
In the dry and fiery strife,
And adds to the farmer's gain.
Rain, rain, the welcome rain.
The peacock comes out and plays;
Grand glee in his heart stays.
Rain, that comes down with message
To the oxen after the toil.
Rain, that shows its outrage;
As plays of children it does spoil.
Hail the rain, hail the rain, hail to the rain!
That nourishes the grass, nurtures the grain.
When a king comes to his port,
Stand beside his dressed escort;
Such the dark and grey clouds stand
When lord rain comes to our land.
Welcome him the waves of plantain leaves,
When I see it, my heart sweeps out all grieves.
And when lord rain steps into our realm,
His clouds spread out darkness to show his deem.
Stays awaiting the river to flow
Full to her brim,
To her beauty, lord rain does bow
And she welcomes him.
Come down tiny droplets in swarms
And send sign of good hope in farms.
The toad on the lotus leaf hops,
To herald the rare but large drops.
The king, with fame so grand,
Returns form a foreign strand,
Along with his royal escort,
He comes back to his royal court.
Such like our lord rain,
Comes back to our plain,
With his following endless drops,
That bend down the heads of the crops.
O, the blindness to the ere for mist,
Seem like rain's hard and fearful fist.
But when it loosens its grips,
Fall down gems with drips and drips.