If I could do the work of a raindrop,

I would be as triumphant as the vast terrain;

And I’d suffer a transformation as if a crop

That’s met by a cool air after being the sun’s slave.

If I could do the work of a raindrop,

I would be as confident as a lion in a jungle;

And I’d not pick out anyone to hand out sops;

But I’d be rushed down on those, likely to struggle.

If I could do the work of a raindrop,

I would be as plain as a light on a mountain;

And I’d assuredly be aware where to make stops

Like a messenger who, indeed, abhors making waves.

If I could do the work of a raindrop,

I would be as precious as an active medicine;

And I’d pour down very often on the sick crops

So that I’d once more make them individually pristine.