Far away, where ruffles heaped of towering cloud,
Maharaj Indra rules from his palace proud
His empire of splendour and shining light
Encircled on his throne by loving fairies bright.

Indra is a king of rain, clouds and rainbows,
Without his blessing not a single plant grows.
White elephants carry his coach in rich attire,
As he often travels across his vast empire.

When upon his palace the rising sunbeams glare,
Indra's abode lights up from the fairies' hair.
As they keep on combing their magnificent braids,
Dusk descends in purple, gold and peachy shades.

But clouds are late in coming, not a whiff of wind stirs,
Everything is wilting. When shall we have some rain?