The Clouds

Clouds floating on the wings of air Wandering over hills, valleys and deserts Swinging, dancing and thundering Raining over fields, rivers and seas Unmindful of the throes of barren lands and deserts Ignoring their plea, begging and laments Giving nothing not even a sprinkle or two The tale of your impartiality isn’t true Your benevolence is a myth No robing the rich and paying the poor Alas! You are not Hatim Tayi or Robin Hood Thirsty barren lands are crying for moister But there isn’t even a drop for them in your reservoir These thunders and drumming of your benevolence Are only to terrify and no solace for the craving souls. They are all ears for the symphony of tip taps They are longing for sprouting of Lilies and roses from their laps. Mohammad Yamin Sintra, Portugal, 28 Sept. 2016