May is vacation in Mahe.
The rain comes down, to renew
It’s acquaintance with the earth.
And suddenly the red soil
Becomes fragrant. The fragrance
Of the earth – earth bathed in rain.
In may, the willow meets the cork.
And suddenly, you find
Wickets drawn on the walls with chalk;
Goals scored between two stones.
The earth then meets,
Not only the rain,
But also the mirth that it brings along.
But may even brings along
Frustration. With a slight consternation,
We instill in our mind,
That april was vacation enough.
May makes the school seem far
One month far. Thirty-one days far.
In mahe, in may, we not only
Play, we not only watch the
Rain sweep away the draught of
Sorrows – we even wait.
Written during a trip to Mahe, my hometown.