Rain and the Farmer
Others might say today's weather is bad,
That it has thrown me into a great trouble.
But my friend, the farmer, loves exactly this;
Such rain makes my hopes beautiful.
This rain is the one that extinguishes the fire of hunger in children's stomachs.
The farmer, holding a khafri on his head,
Stands on the highest ali (mud-boundary) in the middle of the field and looks around—
A flock of herons rests on the branches of the tree,
In the cool breeze, the leaves of the wild tree seem to dance.
The leeches, waiting with their tails curled, are tightly coiled,
In the pond, a group of large frogs croak aloud,
It feels as though they are inviting the farmer's children to come out and play.
Beneath the clouds that have hidden the sun,
The rain roars heavily.
Looking at the field, my friend the farmer says—
This agricultural field is the giver of life.
Here, the rain is such a great guest today;
We must respect and cherish this rain that arrives just when it is needed.
The rain is the one that sheds the tears of my beloved,
The one that extinguishes the fire of hunger in children's stomachs.
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