On a shriveled bough
Was perching a teeny bird
In the crystal glare
It was looking at the heaven

"Are you hoping for the rain?
In a whisper asked the crocodile
And went on, spring is gone
Like the bubbles on the fountain
It is sultry here
Showers no more"

The bird glanced at it and said
"Is it a sin to pray anytime
Or ask him to fulfill our needs?
Doesn't it rain without clouds?
Doesn't He give life to leaves again?
Doesn't all these happen in this world?"