Tar-black clouds and squalls brought along the mizzling rain;
Zephryus, the god of the gentle west wind and herald of spring,
Pounded the mystic drum of euphony for the advent of harmony;
Scotch mist rose from the lake, swampy began to be the bog;
The tall speared grass became wet, and gleeful ditties sang the frog;
The rain echoed the song of the earth, jovial as a bairn’s birth;
The feathered rejoiced the song,
And bears concealed in their homes so cumbersome;
It quenched the thirst of the bourns, and revived the spirit of the earth.
It resuscitated the desire to begin,
And furnish the day-star that we live in.
Sayantan Mitra writes about society with touches of polity and politics. His main focus is on providing informative content with a unique perspective, but never at the cost of providing just mere entertainment.
