Here the moist roads, and there the dewed leaves,
Finally sprinkles of monsoon after a summer so dreary,
A new era, a new zeal of subsiding all grieves,
… If only I knew why I can’t embrace bliss and be merry.
Here the refreshingly gushing cold breeze,
And there the comforts of rain, on the soil dried dead,
A blessing, an omen that fears might finally cease
… If only I could let go of the words already said.
Incessant silver drops break on the ground
Thunders arouse the all so hopeless dormancy
So many a time I have broken, with a hope to rebound now
…. If only tears could wash away embers of the suppressed legacy.
With endless hope rain pours on the crimson rose,
clouds shine on the edge of every silver line
Don’t know why, but the doors keep opening, even if I try to close