O clouds! Come near!
We want water,
still more water!
The green seedlings of paddy are withering
in the scorching heat of the sun.
There is not a drop of water,
not a single drop.

The orange blossoms are not yet filled with nectar,
the custard apple blossoms
have not yet become fruits.
The pomelo flowers are not intoxicated with fragrance;
from this cruel drought we want relief.

The kadamba blossoms have all dropped off,
the tuberose flowers cannot bloom.
In this fiery heat the earth is scorched.
Where shall we find the freshness of rain?