Monsoon, my son, whom do you weep for?

You know I’m happy, don’t you, where I am?

You breathe out gusts of wind so wild and lethal,

They scream that you remember who I am

/

I am the tree that stands alone inside your anger

A ghostly shape inside your ghastly storm

I am the river flowing through the mountains

Your clouds can’t reach – a kingdom of my own

/

I am a peasant in the field and god of nature

I am in every thing you water with your rains

I’m happy and I’m proud that you weep for me

It tells me you remember who I am