Rain has come, long awaited rain, in the arable hamlets
Beside the Padma and the Meghna. Rain has come by the east wind.
The burnt sky and the fileds have been covered with dark shades.
Lightning, the beautiful fairy, has boarded the clouds.
Looking at her incomparable beauty in all directions,
Keya, the shy flower on a rainy day, shudders in excitement,
The paddy-fields burnt in the sun want to have her touch today,
Flood in the crevices of rivers bring the tide replete with life.
The harsh uneven field like the skinny hand of an ill old beggar
Listens to the melody of that rainfall;
Along with the thirsty forest, the thirsty mind wakes up
And wants to pass the long way and the uneven desolate field
Where the forgotten days are lying lonely, detached from all;
There the clouds of rain remain vigilant gloomy and lovely.
4.9.2017 Sirajganj
