At the time of saying good-bye,
I am receiving the suitcase from my mom,
And my mind is completely damp.
But the engines of bus don’t care,
My bus is leaving swiftly from here.
A little pond in the very beginning,
On it green branches are hanging.
Static water…
Celebration of different trees let me hear.
I startle sitting from here,
I open the beauty of my hearts there.
Are the waves of green trees calling me?
They have let my mind free.
Sunbeam is playing on the pile of a sand,
While swans are floating in the pond.
Trees from two sides unite on the road,
These make shadow over men’s head.
Hugging books,
Girls are going to school
Crossing the bamboo-pole.
A way of mud has been divided
Going through the land.
A scare-crow stands with its funny hands.
Two banana trees hug each other standing on the mustard field.
A white crow is tied with a rope,
A little girl is swimming to bring lotus,
Tiny goats are grazing in the meadows.
A scaffold of pumpkin tree spreads over the hut.
Decorating branches, the white flowers of it laugh.
Two date trees at the roots of two palms,
Fishes are stirring in the bowls of fishermen.
Juice trickles down from the date tree in to the pot.
Throwing stones to honey combs,naughty boys exult.
A king fisher on a branch is bending towards the pond,
Martins are eating seeds of corn in the yard.
Wearing nose-ring, a new bride is sweeping her little dreamful hut,
And the children are gathering guavas from the nude mud.
Jutes are hanging for dry,
A milk woman is shouting with a heavy cry.
Vegetables in rows,
The sound od doves is coming from the grove of bamboo.
Shoots in mango trees,
Water-hyacinth drifts.
Barns of paddy infront of the home,
The laugh of china roses makes the cottage lovely.
Stake of wood near a tent,
A little girl is weaving a garland for her sweet love.
A narrow path in the grove,
A bullock-cart is passing the road.
Farmers are sharing one hookah
Through exchanging their words of woe.
Circle of water in the pond,
Fog has completely gone.
Women are making traditional cakes,
And the whole nature feels my silent presence.
It is a sunny day.
This winter morning is busking in the ray.
Sunlight over the yellow mustard field,
Nature looks glossy & bright.
Everything is calling me,
And also those waving green trees.
Leave Your Comments