One Winter Morning At The Village Road

In the cold winter morning
the village road was quiet.
Ricksaw puller Tolmu was then fast sleeping
on the grass at the roadside
beside his rickshaw
drunk from the country liquor vendor.

Some goats grazing near him,
Cattles seen at the roadside paddy fields
grazing stubble or standing lazy
bearing the cold.

At about nine
as the sun shone dispelling the cold
people started going on the road
rows of students going on foot to schools.
But Tolmu was still sleeping
enjoying the warm sun rays.
Yet hardly the passers by enjoyed the scene nor wondered
for it was not an unusual sight to them.
But his neighbor woman Fatima laughed (slightly)
In the passing auto rickshaw seeing him.

After sometime he waked up
and soon remembered-
To deliver four bushels of paddy
from the tenant farmer to the landlord
before the latter's going to office.
Yet the time was late.

by Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh

Other poems of SINGH (62)

Comments (4)

Was erwartet uns alle am Ende des Regenbogens? Mögen die weissen Wolken Dir als Kopfkissen dienen und ein Mantel aus dem blau des Himmels Dich zu decken. Ruhe in Frieden... Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
1. IN ENGLISH Human Fate - by Ingeborg Bachmann enchanted castle in the sky in which we float through who knows how many skies already thus we go with screened eyes We. banned in time and thrown out of space we, airborn through the night and the bottomless
2. who knows. if we haven t flown past god already? and, for we blinked fast as an arrow without taking him in and kept spreading our seed to live on in ever darker generations float on guilty now? who knows, if we haven t been dying for a long time already? the ball of clouds with us, aspires to ascend further even now the thin air paralyses our hands already and when the voice breaks and our respiration stops enchantment remains for a last blink of the eye
tak faham? bu don? what's this? wakaranai?