Song of the Rain
The rain fell down the rooftops
The children ran with glee
The rain kept on pouring
The frogs began to sing
The croaking just continued
The bathers danced in praise
The poet is singing
The rain is pouring still
The rain seems flowed down the street
Beyond the metropolis
It reached the far-off places
Fields filled with grain
The fields were quite muddy
The farmer rejoiced in the rain
While the prose is being written
To be told the next day
And the sky roared with thunder
The lightning burned the clouds
The poet, he is writing
Underneath this unsafe place
His mind is full of rain
Of frogs and happily
His quill and ink are flowing
Rain seems to be my glee
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