It is raining in the month Savan, I like the rain coming down. In Savan, my heart starts to pine, I hear the sound of Hari coming. The clouds have rolled in from all sides, lightening occurs and it pours. Tiny drops come from the clouds, and I enjoy the cool breeze. O lord of Mira, called Giradhar Nagar, the cloudy season is for singing joyfully.

Mirabai , Sacred Longings by Mary C. Grey