(118) Varasa eseche bharasa eseche
Monsoon has come; faith has arrived...
The chatak's[1] thirst has been satisfied.
The dried grass, in verdant beauty,
Has assumed the form of carpeting.
Making pitter-patter, rain's been falling down,
As if heaven's ambrosia drips to the ground.
In trees, the sweetness lost has been revived;
The animals have got new life.
Come now, let us race toward the target
With relentless song and dogged spirit.
Reminiscence and sleeping in...
Today, all scope for that has vanished.
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While the world rejoices, let us rush on winged feet toward our goal.
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