A beautiful miniature of a Plough
The young man brought for his father
As a loving memory of childhood
The old man who ploughed the fertile land
A wooden plough he used always
Attached to the Bullocks in such care
The iron blade in the end
Sharpened in time from the village workshop
Where his friend the village blacksmith
He was a talented one in agriculture
Every nook and corner he ploughed
When the paddy field returned his sweat
Many fold the grains he got from harvest
Slowly his sons became seniors and employed
They forgot the paddy field for ever
And gone voyage and found jobs
New homes, posh cars, and facilities
The old plough hanged in cow shed
The old man looked with sadness
They new father was a little depressed
And decided to present a beautiful golden plough
No doubt the old man scolded and thrown away the present
My sweat and blood is more worthier than this
My old dilapidated wooden plough must accompany
And try to lay it near my grave yard
As a valuable monument to look for ever.
Wonderful poem depicting the change in values of 2 generations created by the generation gap as also the conditions in which they were born and brought-up. The old man had affinity with wooden plough with which he toiled, thus, it was part of his life while his gen next, educated and employed with prosperity, presented him golden plough more or less as a memento. Thus, he threw it away. Nice and thought provoking write. Enjoyed reading. Thanks for sharing.10 points. Regards.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the change in our lifestyles from rural agrarian societies and families we have evolved into city dwelling buzzing bees incapable of tilling the land or generating anything from the land which will feed us.. and we go hunting to interiors for old tools which the earlier generation used to hold and toil with in their calloused hands to be displayed as old memorabilia in our drawing rooms! ! thanks for sharing. a good poem to make one ponder..