Storm and Rain
The mighty demons of the storm have met
In battle fierce. Relentless anger fires
Their bosoms, proud of desolating power.
Their swords in rapid wavings flash; and oft
In lightning gleams illume the darkened earth.
Hark! how they vaunt in thunder deep and loud,
And madly howling, rave athwart the arch
Of heaven; convolving Gunga’s waters deep;
Which wildly running to and fro, dismayed,
Or upward bounding high, appear as if
They wish to break loose from their beds to fly
The tempest’s rage. Beneath its headlong speed
Reft of her beauties green, fair Nature quakes
Affrighted; and upon the plain are strewed
Leaves, arms, and trunks of many a giant tree
Felled by their wrath.
But soon unto the clouds,
Which darkly frown upon the earth, as though
In hate and envy, fly the tempest fiends;
And there, bound by some unknown, powerful charm,
They roar as if once more they would descend
And sweep the world before their furious course
Blasting the fairest scenes of Nature fair
With demon strength and hate.
The ruthless storm
Is past. Cloud upon cloud is piled along
The darksome brow of yonder skies, enshrouding
The face of the bright Sun, who o’er the earth
High on his throne of ether, erst did reign
In splendour cloudless, dazzling, yet serene.
The gathering darkness deepens round; as if
The spell of awe hath bound the face of heaven—
The spell which but the poet’s gifted eye
Can trace; and but his flexile heart can feel
Now the floods of heaven unsealed
At once burst forth in torrents, deluging
The shrinking earth: and as the clouds become
Dispersed and thinner by the wandering breeze,
The glories of the broad, meridian Sun
Descend and sparkle. But the firmament
Still pours its genial springs of crystal rain,
Which, brightened by the solar beams, appear
Like showers of liquid radiance falling down,
A blessed gift to Man from favouring heaven.
The little shrubs, which ere long drooped beneath
The summer Sun’s refulgent noontide, now
Reviving, raise their heads and put forth all
Their verdurous majesty. Each leaf is decked
With drops of rain, like pearls and diamonds bright
Quivering in the gentle gale, which breathes
Delightful fragrance round.
Kasiprasad Ghose (1809–1873)