Thursday, 17 March 2011


The shepherd boy lives by a happy stream
Jumping over a pebbled path without a break
As the sage like mountains watch with a scowl
A few huts sleep by the dancing waves
A gay flute fills the afternoon sky
Crooning a tale to the grazing sheep
As the fire dies down behind the peaks
The boy returns home with his gay herd
To have a frugal meal and retire to bed
At night when he tosses and turns on his sides
The guns roar a lullaby on the other end
Listening to the drumming drone every night
The boy peacefully goes off to sleep

The other night was unusually calm
The stars shone cheerfully bright
The moon beamed like a crystal maze
And the guns bellowed not
A single song throughout the night

The boy next day was late
To his work
Not a wink did he sleep
The previous night

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