Ah-h sweet nector of the medicinal clouds,
pour your fruits upon the withered brows.
Beat upon the fields with thy golden rain
and keep the corn free above the pain.
Send a hearty deluge until the skies are empty.
Fulfill thy duties according to heaven’s decree.
Answer the pleas of the forsaken earth
and do this in compliance to thy oath at birth.
Take yourself back to thy time of creation,
on the drawing board as a firm foundation,
when the sky was just an empty space
waiting to be showered with heaven’s embrace.
Rain when it is the right time to rain
and when it is enough, ’tis time to refrain.
Keep to the plan of needs and their fulfillment,
managing the duration of the water’s descent.
For the drink of life needs just enough
to keep us living for ever and ever more.