Traveling across plains of India, seeing rice paddies every-
where, beautiful flowers and greenery stationing themselves
all across the land.
People walking and working, cutting the rice to take with
them, animals roaming around, cows, goats, stray dogs, oxen
pulling plows through fields.
Palm trees loaded with coconuts, India being a land of
plenty in the way of agriculture, yet it's people are poor,
living in grass roof huts, no electric or water.
Living an existence of nothing much, the rich not seeming
to care one iota about them it appears, such vibrant and
wonderful people being left alone, no one caring to help.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem