Rain – بارش

Rain – بارش

We can’t help being thirsty, moving toward the voice of water.

Milk drinkers draw close to the mother.

Muslims, Christians, Jews, Buddhists,

Hindus, shamans, everyone hears the intelligent sound

and moves with thirst to meet it.

***_>*> Molana Jalaluddin Rumi<*<_***

(1207-1273)

******************

The good rain, like the bad preacher, does not know when to leave off.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

***>*>***Molana Jalaluddin Rumi***<*<***

Masnavi Book I, 599-607

We are as the flute, and the music in us is from thee;

we are as the mountain and the echo in us is from thee.

We are as pieces of chess engaged in victory and defeat:

our victory and defeat is from thee, O thou whose qualities are comely!

Who are we, O Thou soul of our souls,

that we should remain in being beside thee?

We and our existences are really non-existence;

thou art the absolute Being which manifests the perishable.

We all are lions, but lions on a banner:

because of the wind they are rushing onward from moment to moment.

Their onward rush is visible, and the wind is unseen: may that which is unseen not fail from us!

Our wind whereby we are moved and our being are of thy gift; our whole existence is from thy bringing into being.

Acquainted With the Night

***_>*>Robert Frost<*<_***

I have been one acquainted with the night.

I have walked out in rain – and back in rain.

I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.

I have passed by the watchman on his beat

And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet

When far away an interrupted cry

Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;

And further still at an unearthly height,

One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.

I have been one acquainted with the night.

*****Rain in Summer*****

How beautiful is the rain!

After the dust and the heat,

In the broad and fiery street,

In the narrow lane,

How beautiful is the rain!

Rain

***_>*> Edward Thomas <*<_***

Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain

On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me

Remembering again that I shall die

And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks

For washing me cleaner than I have been

Since I was born into this solitude.

Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:

But here I pray that none whom once I loved

Is dying to-night or lying still awake

Solitary, listening to the rain,

Either in pain or thus in sympathy

Helpless among the living and the dead,

Like a cold water among broken reeds,

Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,

Like me who have no love which this wild rain

Has not dissolved except the love of death,

If love it be towards what is perfect and

Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.

**********

Rain is grace; rain is the sky condescending to the earth;

without rain, there would be no life.

*_>***>* John Updike*<***<_*

An Autumn Rain-Scene

*_*>*** Thomas Hardy***<*_*

There trudges one to a merry-making

With sturdy swing,

On whom the rain comes down.

To fetch the saving medicament

Is another bent,

On whom the rain comes down.

One slowly drives his herd to the stall

Ere ill befall,

On whom the rain comes down.

This bears his missives of life and death

With quickening breath,

On whom the rain comes down.

One watches for signals of wreck or war

From the hill afar,

On whom the rain comes down.

No care if he gain a shelter or none,

Unhired moves on,

On whom the rain comes down.

And another knows nought of its chilling fall

Upon him aat all,

On whom the rain comes down.

Paper Boats

***_>***>_Sir Rabindranath Tagore_<***<_***

Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running stream.

In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of the village where I live.

I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and know who I am.

I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land in the night.

I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the little clouds setting thee white bulging sails.

I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down the air to race with my boats!

When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars.

The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading ins their baskets full of dreams.

****** ******

My sorrow, when she’s here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain

are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree;

she walks the sodden pasture lane.

- Robert Frost

****************

Let the rain kiss you.

Let the rain beat upon your headwith silver liquid drops.

Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

- Langston Hughes, April Rain Song, 1902 – 1967

****** ******

Keeping in touch with childhood memories keeps us believing

in life’s simplest pleasures like a rainy afternoon,

a swingset, and a giant puddle to play in.

- Chrissy Ogden

****** ******

Till taught by pain,

Men really know not what good water’s worth;

If you had been in Turkey or in Spain,

Or with a famish’d boat’s-crew had your berth,

Or in the desert heard the camel’s bell,

You’d wish yourself where Truth is–in a well.

*_*>***Lord Byron, Don Juan***<*_*