By SHYAMA PRASAD PAL
The splash of the football
In the field of green
The shout of the kid’s brawl
Their shirts unclean,
Dripping waters from large sal leaves fall
Into holes unseen
Cattles graze as do some horses and sheep’s, all
come here from wherever they have been.
Beyond the field are our hills,
their summer dry brown gown
Filling up with patches of grass.
In just a few more days’ it will pass
into a wet rolling green
and stay that way,
to be admired and seen.
A veritable heaven
All the more if you have a companion.
Waterfalls cascading down into rivulets
Rivulets into streams
They all go and fall into the river of our dreams.