The child mind joyfully smiles
To see the clouds fill the sky
Jumps with joy to hear the thunder
The mother rain will visit him soon.
Now the rain drops are falling
He stands out in the meadow
To receive the caress on his cheeks
Thrown far is the torturous noon!
The child born in late asarh*,
On a bountiful day blessed with -
Heaven’s holy water sprinkling
The sun hid, slumbered the moon!
The rain fairies tap on the roof
Singing a lullaby to
the baby
Tiny vapors hover like angels
Over the babe born in
monsoon!
Xavier Bage
Wed, Aug 10, 2016
*asarh = a month in
the Indian calendar comprising the later half of June and the first half of July.
No comments:
Post a Comment