INDIAN WEAVERS
Weavers, weaving at break of day,Why do you weave a garment so gay?...
Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild,
We weave the robes of a new-born child.
Weavers, weaving at fall of night,
Why do you weave a garment so bright?...
Like the plumes of a peacock, purple and green,
We weave the marriage-veils of a queen.
Weavers, weaving solemn and still,
What do you weave in the moonlight chill?...
White as a feather and white as a cloud,
We weave a dead man's funeral shroud.
--Sarojini Naidu
1 comment:
hmmm reminds me of my school days.. read it long back... i jus saw ur new blog.. u already posted so many of them.. i am late.!!
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