Sullen clouds are gathering fast over the black fringe of the <br />forest. <br />O child, do not go out! <br />The palm trees in a row by the lake are smiting their heads <br />against the dismal sky; the crows with their dragged wings are <br />silent on the tamarind branches, and the eastern bank of the river <br />is haunted by a deepening gloom. <br />Our cow is lowing loud, ties at the fence. <br />O child, wait here till I bring her into the stall. <br />Men have crowded into the flooded field to catch the fishes <br />as they escape from the overflowing ponds; the rain-water is <br />running in rills through the narrow lanes like a laughing boy who <br />has run away from his mother to tease her. <br />Listen, someone is shouting for the boatman at the ford. <br />O child, the daylight is dim, and the crossing at the ferry <br />is closed. <br />The sky seems to ride fast upon the madly rushing rain; the <br />water in the river is loud and impatient; women have hastened home <br />early from the Ganges with their filled pitchers. <br />The evening lamps must be made ready. <br />O child, do not go out! <br />The road to the market is desolate, the lane to the river is <br />slippery. The wind is roaring and struggling among the bamboo <br />branches like a wild beast tangled in a net.<br /><br />Sir Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-rainy-day-3/
