Treasure Island

Bijay Kant Dubey


The Daughter of The Hills: A Biography of A Santali Girl/ The Song of The Santal Maiden


In sun and shower,
Under the golden sunshine
And the fair moonlight,
Grew she up,
A daughter of the hills,
In and around,
Encircling her.

Cut off from the wide world
And gaze of it,
Grew she up
As a wild flower
Unadmired and unappreciated,
A girl uninhibited
But laden under strictures.

At the herald of spring,
Sang you
Seeing the cuckoos singing
From the leafless
But in bloom
Palash and simul blossoms.

Sticking a palash bloom
Into her hair,
Danced she,
Sang she
Marking the change in season.

Under the shadow of the hills,
Grew she up,
A daughter of the hills,
Half-fed and half-clothed tribal girl,
Living a life of her own,
Taking boiled ice and its gruel
And palm juice and rotten rice beer.

Submitted: Monday, August 04, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, August 05, 2014

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Topic(s): art

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