An Indian Farmer's Song Poem by Neelamani Sutar

Sadly, I will not keep even an inch of the land uncultured inside me!

I will weave three rows of white smiles there, a bunch of happy women meeting with their five sense organs alert, they will look at each other again like fog and say, are you Homer, the Greek poet? Was there a blind poet still exists on the earth?

But why are the eye-catching farmers today? Told me the news, O shocked king? Is there darkness there? Is there a noise of children and women there?

There is the idea of beautiful paddies. Are the people here happy to get the garland by association?

The women of Greece were very beautiful. How ape they are! Rows of curvy thighs show a restless virgin, how many male warriors play!

They also have sorrow near my chest, there is pre-birth defeat but what is your sorrow, poetry?
What is thisdiamond farm?
Why do you keep a homeland hidden in the ground, why do you leave a weeping tree?

Why cry leaving the seeds? Why are you crying or are you scared today to see an unseen root that has no roots?

Frightened today, your people, trees, children love, women and citizens of the city?

I understand that you will not leave even an inch of sad land uncultured and when you come back from acetheater you will loose yourself in warm farming.

An unattractive mother of the country!