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The rain returns after a long holiday,
From the terrains where the greens stay,
A cooling breeze touches the hot skin,
The consummation of water and loam,
Emanate the smell of the soil and the soul,
Congested noses cleared, farmers thrilled,
Emptied brooks are bare and naked,
Frogs with tired legs not started to croak,
The thirsty coconut trees still have young,
On the banks of river, where their roots hung,
The villagers are out on the red soil path,
Looking at one another with gleeful thought,
dropp by dropp the rain showers their heart,
To fill the catchment and then run to dissolve the dirt,
To wipe the tears of our hungry farmers,
The rain of water spray on their face,
As the wind hugs the wind,
The fire calms down the inferno.

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