Though found, faded and dead,
The Desert still speaks to us, again,
In the pattern of His commandments,
When voices of Rain are heard!
Beyond the long run against death’s darkness —
Nature’s courageous beauty catches on
To look with open eyes at her child
Weeping, and slowly moors earth’s bark.
Ah! The Rain! Rain!

 

Like the Rain: within us, if we want,
Nothing can grow old.
‘Never speak of sorrowful things,
Contemplating on hopelessness,’ I say.
Who can steal Spring from a heart?
Or, can a bard be curtailed by emptiness?
As long as I have breath,
I will rhyme with verse to chant;
Ah! The Rain! Rain!

 

 

3rd February 2009
Dubai

 

Geeta Chhabra