Why to sing of love when all our hopes are buried?
Why to talk of love when there is anger everywhere?
Love has become the truth that needs to be sung,
From the rooftops, for the near and dear to wonder.
Why talk of the rain during the scorching summer?
Why talk of warmth during the dark wintry nights?
What is often needed becomes the talk of the hour,
Much missed yet has to be recognized and sought.
The earth celebrates the touch of rain with sprouts
That break afresh everywhere through the ground;
The sky relishes the warmth of the sun with life,
During the dark cold nights common in winter.
It's the piece of earth in me that celebrates the rain,
And the piece of sky in me that loves sunshine.
Why to talk of love when there is anger everywhere?
Love has become the truth that needs to be sung,
From the rooftops, for the near and dear to wonder.
Why talk of the rain during the scorching summer?
Why talk of warmth during the dark wintry nights?
What is often needed becomes the talk of the hour,
Much missed yet has to be recognized and sought.
The earth celebrates the touch of rain with sprouts
That break afresh everywhere through the ground;
The sky relishes the warmth of the sun with life,
During the dark cold nights common in winter.
It's the piece of earth in me that celebrates the rain,
And the piece of sky in me that loves sunshine.
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