A farmer's son Peter was his name; His eyes upon the sky waiting for the rain, For years city was in flame; Was waiting for the rain, That day it Rain's ; drops for his grains, The grain which he sows; Was made to put in drams, Again peter by his name, In his work to the previous days; Nothing but only in the fate, Was withdrawing some grains; He made to laugh at ones, Not at others but at self; He saw fully growned grains, Which in dreams he owns himself; He put the implements aside; And as soon as he grab the grains, Nothing happens except his surprise Of owning a dream in sighs, ...