On an evening at our Green[farming] fields

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Whenever I do visit my village
I make it a point to surely glance my agricultural fields
One is situated on the eastern side and other one on the southern end
Which naturally gives me a soft and sweet remembrance in mind

I love more to be at my southern end field
Which gives me rice that feed us throughout the year
While the one at the eastern side is more for commercial crop
Either cotton or chillies alternately every year

As if to convey its heart felt welcome gestures
The waves weave from the risen up crop heads
The cool breezes come down from the distant hills
Thus making all the plants to nod their heads in cohesion

The water flowing to the fields from the canal slowly
Make an interesting dropping down noise in minute form of a water fall
The birds chirping the wood skin on the trees grown up in the midst of fields
Make sounds that thrill my tempers in a musical magic

The men and women who work hard during the day time
Unequivocally sing the folk songs in their own fashion
Just to lighten their bodily strain and pain
The beauty of village life is evident from their unified tasks


From putting seeds into the soil by their hands manually
They do almost all the work TILL THE HARVEST TIMES in hale and healthy pattern
They feel excited once they bring the yield to their respective houses
Either mechanically operated vehicles or bulls drawn carts

My evenings at the green farm fields of mine
Definitely give me an astounding pleasure in tonnes
Spreading the breathe ways to the entire community in the village
I can’t forget the welcome weaves and fare well waves rendered by the rising crops.
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