As I sit here,
Under the Mahua Tree,
I see the leaves falling-
With the wind blowing.
I hear the cuckoos calling;
And I watch the nearby farmers ploughing.
I sit on a bench in the tree's shade,
Which has been alluringly made-
I see the farmers having had their lunch,
Are ready to be laid;
And the leftover, that their wives munch.
The Sun is now ready to set
And the condensed clouds have made the atmosphere wet;
The farmers are now naturally signalled to go
For they deserve some rest;
So this brings an end to the show
As I sleep Under the Mahua Tree,
Utilizing it's warmth at it's best.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem