Raindrops splashes, needles kissing my homeland, poured by Thee
Puffs of the clouds hung over bows before the lonely tree hennaed in green
Rain droplets are pouring down like the needles kissing the poor countryman, while frisking for their roots
Ahh! The orchards are being blessed with the blanket of green all over, the dew kissed the parched leaves on the eve of ripening of the fruits
Sheer is my mother, it’s my shelter and my homeland. Thy summer has spelled it for so long, now it seems a rainy night
Thy home is lightened with the illuminating stars, here with the thread of candles; there in the corner brother is having the apple bite
Blessed we are that rain pours down as the golden wire, it extinguishes the worldly fire
Rain, Rain pour down, poor needs You.
Tahir Ibn ManzoorThe poet is the founder & web editor at Kashmir Outlook, a monthly web magazine from Kashmir. He has been a student of Journalism at Central University of Kashmir.
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