Walking down the path across the fields
Whistling a song of olden days
I spotted her winnowing the chaffs
Sitting in the sheds of stacks of hays.
Two curls danced on her cheeks
As her head moved up and down
Often I missed her as she moved
Amidst green, gold, and brown.
Perched on a frond, the birds
Teased her as she began to sing
The songs of the young prince
Who would one day for her bring
Untold amount of wealth and gold;
And take her away to his land.
Where no one’s heart bleeds in sorrow
And no one ever loses a friend.
Where river of nectar forever flows
Across endless fields- full of grains;
The children moved freely in the streets
And drink milk in the murky terrains.
Guns, battles, cannons, wars and deaths
Are the things they have never heard;
They work throughout the days
And no misfortune have ever dared
To inflict pains and losses
Upon the happy denizens;
They love to live for others
The airs there never feel tense.
She blushed, stopped winnowing,
Tilted her head and smiled at the sky;
Her eyes got squeezed to see the clouds
And her thoughts began to fly.
Is it true, that a life sans sorrow
Can be found in today’s’ time?
When treachery, lie and violence
Have become one’s pastime;
When value of love, friendship,
Kinship, freedom, justice and health,
Are weighed in the pans
Of ego, hatred, violence and wealth;
I stood for a while, waved at her
And brought her back to me;
“Up there”, she said looking at
The sky, “where the land might be”
I am the one who would like
To be with her in the other world;
Oh! No, she has already a prince,
Its better I should leave the field.
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