The Root

By Ramswaroop Prasad

Observing the frolic of golden awns,

The poet and the aesthete are delighted

Composes the lyrics and creates the fine arts

The food provider fondly watches his offspring– the crops at dawn

Alas! If only one could perceive the toil guilelessly

And the decomposed limbs of the farmer

How deeply they are intermixed in the soil.

By Ramswaroop Prasad