They sail on high so mighty, so swift,
They gurgle and snort as they roughly twist
They twirl and swirl as they rage and wind
The timid blue of the sky on high
The seasons they are not now refined
They come and go as they define
There was a time when the seasons all
Were bound to nature’s yearly call
Summer, winter, autumn, spring
Were all bound up in a string
Like human beings now, they are sick in mind
Unpredictable, selfish and unkind
When the farmer gleans his harvest true
It suddenly pours down to undo
His fruits of labor, his dreams to unwind.
When summer comes, it heats the earth
It cracks and racks the burdened earth
The dried up earth cannot be tilled
Nature has become so self- willed.
~Shobha Diwakar
Jabalpur, India