Nature and the Seasons: Sunset Glow, The Breeze, Night, The Hot Season, Morning, The First Drop of Rain, The Rains, The Rainbow

Sunset Glow

Look at the splendour of the sunset glow in bloom:
a wondrous field of tulips has opened in the air.

Evening has come, and the clouds are changing colour,
and the mind is astonished to see them.

A new colour, and a new form;
in every form it is the same sunlight.

Our nature is in raptures at the colour of the clouds:
Nature has edged them with a golden hem.

In a little while the colours changed many times,
violet and orange and the yellow of champak.

What secret is this, what miracle,
that in every colour there is something new?

This bank of clouds that lies in the west
is as if mountains were made of gold and silver.

The blue sky with a touch of red in it,
as if a fire had been set in a green forest.

Now the signs of night have appeared,
for the curtains of red broadcloth are drawn aside.

The Breeze Blew

When morning was about to come, the cool breeze blew;
with what a gentle, gentle step this charmer went.

It has set the field rippling, the ears of corn are swaying;
the plants too are nodding, the branches bending.

In the flower beds it opened fresh blossoms as it went;
the green growth was asleep, and it woke it as it went.

Without you the trees would not be green in the gardens;
it is through your very breath that a walk in the garden is pleasant.

If you were ever lacking in this world,
no beast would be left alive, nor any man.

The birds would have no strength to fly,
there would be no cawing, no cooing, no twittering.

God's servants should give their worship
to Him by whose command it blows for ever.

Night

The day is gone, evening has come, and the night is here:
God has made a wonderful thing in the night.

If there were no night, how would we know the day?
How would man enjoy the pleasure of the day?

Night has come, and people are free of their work;
a sort of silence has fallen since early evening.

The markets and bazaars are now beginning to close,
all the business and trade of the world is closed.

The traveller has journeyed all day;
at nightfall he has reached his stage and loosened his belt.

The leaves of the trees too have fallen silent;
the wind has dropped, the trees too have gone to sleep.

Darkness has overcome the light;
every person has begun to seek rest.

Lamps have been lit in the villages and towns;
everyone has gained leisure from toil.

The farmer now has left his field and gone,
to spend the night in peace at home.

The poor men who are labourers,
whose bodies are broken with toil,

worn out with the whole day's work,
exhausted, weary and beaten,

have gone to their homes most gladly,
and their wives and children too were glad to see them.

They have forgotten all the cares of work and business;
at dawn they will rise again refreshed.

Where is the king granted such peace
as the carefree sleep in which the poor sleep?

The Hot Season

The month of May has arrived;
sweat streams from head to heel.

When it struck twelve the sun came overhead,
and the shadow hid beneath our feet.

The hot wind blew, and the sun beat down hard;
the fierce sun is like a blast of fire.

Is it the earth, or some burning griddle?
Is it a flame, or has the west wind blown?

Doors and walls are scorching with the heat;
the sons of Adam are writhing like fish.

Birds fly and drop on to the water;
the grazing beasts too wander about distressed.

The wild beasts have hidden in the thickets,
and the crocodiles lie sunk in the creeks.

Ask nothing about the houses of the poor:
the floor is the earth, the roof is the sky.

No fan, no screen of wet grass, no room:
a tiny hut, the fruit of their toil.

May the rich enjoy their mansions:
the poor too have God for their friend.

The Coming of Morning

I bring news that the day is coming,
I am spreading light through the world,
I am showing my splendour from the east,
I am calling with a clear throat:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

I have come with all the world's work and trade,
I have come with going and talking,
I have come with the jingle of music,
I have come with the chirping of the birds:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

The cock has begun to crow, call after call;
every creature is crying out for joy;
there is a wonderful twittering in the trees;
the hour is lovely, and the breeze is cool:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

These sparrows making a din in the trees,
flying to and fro, coming and going,
flicking their tails and fluffing their wings,
are singing songs of my arrival:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

When the parrot screeched in the orchards,
the nightingale too sang in the garden,
and on the high parapets the shama bird sang;
I am raising the alarm in a hundred ways:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

I have made every garden fragrant,
I have set the breezes of dawn swaying,
I have made the garden glow with red flowers,
but sleep has led you astray:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

Through me there is life on mountain and in forest,
in every land, in every country, in every homeland;
I came into the garden opening the flowers,
I went on putting out the candle at the gathering:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

Every herb and root in the forest at this hour
stands wearing a necklace of nine hundred thousand,
for the dew has fallen in the coolness before dawn;
wonderful is this scene, wonderful this moment:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

The deer have started up and are bounding;
they are frolicking in the green field;
they stand grazing on the bank of the stream;
in short, all are in love with my beauty:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

I came in the shade of the stars as far as here;
my splendour reaches from the earth to the sky;
you will find me as far as you can see;
how long, pray, will you go on being lazy?
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

I woke the priest of the temple,
I roused the muezzin of the mosque,
I showed the lost traveller his road,
I lessened the darkness and increased the light:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

The laden caravans have pitched camp at their stage;
the farmers' ploughs set off at first light;
the fishermen went out with their nets on their shoulders;
want has been driven off by my coming:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

Bugle and tambour, conch and kettledrum
have all begun to play their own tunes;
the gun too has fired: day has come, Your Highness!
Heedlessness is not good, heedlessness is not good:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

Come, be alert and open your eyes;
don't turn over, and don't grope about the bed;
remember God and speak His name aloud;
now, with God's blessing, get up and wash your face and hands:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

My procession has come in great pomp;
now my command runs through the world;
the stars have hidden, the dark night has departed;
the gardens, the fields and the flower beds have come into view:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

I make my raid from the east upon the west,
I wheel round the globe of the earth,
I have come after crossing China and Java;
I say nothing more to you than this:
wake up, you sleepers, for I am coming!

The First Drop of Rain

A dense dark cloud stood poised,
but not a drop had yet fallen.

In the heart of every drop was this fear:
I am worthless, a poor little drop.

No one's lips will be moistened by me;
I am of no use to others, nor to myself.

How shall I quench the thirst of the field?
I shall only bring ruin on myself.

I am ashamed to fall as rain:
the earth and stones are all hot.

What generosity can there be with empty hands?
What sweetness in insipid words?

On what strength shall I be bold?
Who am I, what is my worth?

In the heart of every drop was this same grief;
they were whispering to one another.

Something was brewing in the cloud;
a little lightning was flashing.

There was one drop who was very brave,
a swimmer in the ocean of courage,

generous, bountiful and well-meaning;
his sense of honour was roused.

He cried out in challenge: come on,
step forward behind me!

Do what good you can;
put some life into the dead earth.

Friends, how long this dithering?
Do your best, as far as you can.

If you strive together, giving your lives,
you will bring water over the whole plain.

I say this openly to all:
if you are coming, come; look, I am off.

Saying this, he set off;
"it is hard to stake one's life."

Although he had no means,
yet he showed great courage.

When they saw the daring of this generous one,
two or four more followed.

Then one after another darted down;
drop by drop they fell on the earth.

At last the drops formed an unbroken stream,
and the rain began to pour in torrents.

The wilderness was all water;
gardens and avenues were watered.

People had been crushed by famine;
with this rain people were made happy.

The drop's courage did its work;
its name lives in the world to this day.

Gentlemen, take thought for the nation;
unite as the drops did.

From drops alone a canal will flow,
and your boats will set sail.

The Rains

Look, there rises the black, black cloud,
the cloud that is about to spread on every side.

When the sound of the cloud's coming was heard,
a rustling arose in the wind as well.

When the cloud came and poured down rain,
life came into the lifeless soil.

The earth began to ripple with green,
the farmers' labour began to bear fruit.

Herbs and roots and trees came up,
wonderful creepers and leaves, wonderful flowers and fruits.

Every tree has a new style,
every flower a new colour.

What has happened in these two days,
that the whole forest has turned green?

Where yesterday a bare plain lay,
today there is a forest of grass.

Thousands of creatures began to hop about,
as if the soil itself had grown wings.

The Rainbow

Evening was near, and a peasant
was in the field, watching over his flock.

Suddenly he saw the bow
that tells us rain is coming.

He found its colour wonderful;
to look at, he found it very near.

He had often heard before
that there is a golden bowl in the rainbow.

This tale is very well known,
from the lips of the storytellers:

where the bow meets the earth,
there that golden cup is found.

He thought: get the cup and become a Jamshid;
leave off worrying about goats and sheep.

The foolish rustic, on this fancy,
went straight as an arrow for the bow.

The day began to wane; he quickened his step,
hoping that now he had found the treasure.

The harder he tried,
the further off the bow moved.

At last the rainbow vanished,
and the darkness of night appeared.

Then that simple peasant, disappointed,
was full of regret, grief and remorse.