She vanished as a thin delusion.
Hurriedly into the jade meander past the garden hedge,
Ducking into the horrendous rain without an umbrella,
Her mellifluous voice now yells in my ears,
And it still rains with galore beside my window.

Dressed in pink, her white scarf wet-
And her glasses misted with raindrops.
Well hid her tears, as much her face with a pasty smile.
No doubt on her face, as much like the rain!
Fall down the skies, from the dark licentious clouds.
Never casts herself to the skies, which isn’t her.

It rains down to earth, all at once to those high and low.
It pours down the air, flows on the land, gushes on to waters.
Setting the tunes for merriment, she cries herself down.
And in her tears she brings glory to life.

In the cloud of tears that roll on her eyes, I see myself.
From her eyelashes I hang my life as a larva,
And the laughter I thought to whisper,
I heard in the trickle on the roof.
Each time it rains, I grope for a glimpse.
That dream which vanished into the monsoon mist.

After the sweltering summer, it rains to the bruises,
Sluicing away the blood, loathing and scalded lust
When she comes nearer, I feel like life returning.
But only to pass over as the tumult monsoon rain,
Leaving me drenched in the passions and pain of being loved.

My melody goes into the ruckus of the rain drops.
She walked away into the rain; as much now-
She is rain; I feel her dripping on to me.
Now into one we both become,
Rolling into the earth, its soil and dirt,
For life to grow up from the abandoned fallows,
And of souls which hasn’t been cured of lust for life.
And the flowers of this derelict valley,
Will sing to the world of our love,
As true as the monsoon mist.

------------------------------------------------------Priyan-------------