I am a little dropp waiting for the thunderclap
To go ahead of every other dropp and hit the earth's scalp
Hearing the sound, we all hurried towards our goal
Not waiting to hit the ground first, to win the race and minding not to foul
All kinds of obstructions in the middle of our way
No matter how louder we cried, they did not move away
Some of my mates were stopped by them
Only I wished, with me it should not be the same
Hitting the ground with great joy, thought I am the one who won
But the moment after touching the surface, came to know we all are even
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem