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