The hiss of water on sunbaked concrete,
the vapor sighs; summer is here.
Not a leaf stirs or tendril moves,
the breeze sleeps on; summer is here.
The gasping bird flies hither and thither
for drops of life; summer is here.
The hot ripe scent of alphonsos,
cushioned in hay; summer is here.
Dripping bodies, lassitude,
powercuts; summer is here.
An overnight trek, a crisp night sky,
starlight sizzles; summer is here.
The sheer delight of cool spray,
the fountain plays; summer is here.
The laburnum showers golden notes
of raag sarang; summer is here.
We tread a carpet crimson gold
violet petals; summer is here.
And then comes a call, the hawk cuckoo cries,
"Alakaline, the rain is here!"
~
Try this:
Each verse can be sung to sixteen beats.