The corn-fields are in their autumn beauty
The grazing path is dry
And the sun is in his eternal duty
The God listens to cultivators' cry.
Neither the scorching heat, nor rain
Beautiful weather all around
In their heart neither ache, nor pain
Only unlimited joy and happiness, profound.
They are as dutiful as were ten years ago
While first time I made my journey to field
Stolid, indifferent they are; no ego
And there are some cows and lambs, meek and mild.
One after one bullock-cart approaching
'Go, Go'-the herdsman shouts
Its a sermon, that they are preaching
After ten springs too, they are same no doubt.
Utterly I'm astonished
When they load heaps of grain on head
But all of them well decorated and furnished
As if, corns and grains are laid on beautiful bed.
I see them, taking rest every noon
Under the tree or silva of the place
Where the God pours upon them limitless boon
As if, there they seek the peace of a palace.
Ten years of other life passed by
But I got no such joyful moments
That I get easily here afar or nigh
In their work and in their every movement.
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Comments about this poem (Cultivators by Pijush Biswas )
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