Night Rain

a poem by Gopikrishnan Pisharody

The night rain, is not yet stopped
But I want to move.
I listen, to the rain drops;
they are playing a beautiful song
The winds fluted with a song,
where, I never heard former.
The blue curtain is not raised
I heard the clapping of trees;
Every drops, glitters my earth;
her heart, cheered in fresh.

How they are singing a song,
I thought, about that great composer;
that acting in the rouse of blind
where is he, the weird musician.

Night rain, is still singing
the exotic song,
which I composed, now he impede.