The Labourer and His Owner
Black and white -
His spade always wakes up the dreams
in the sands,
Except when he hugs
the coconut trees;
Sweat drops decorate his body
under the sun.
His owner, of the same age,
who simply stands
Or simply sits in some shade.
"A blessed man",
My mind always murmurs.
Now -
In the same coconut grove,
though very aged,
The same labourer decorates his body
with sweat drops.
But in the place of the old owner,
his dear son
Simply stands or simply sits.
Many years after,
My mind murmurs again, "Who
is really blessed? "
FABIYAS M V
poem by Fabiyas M V
Added by Poetry Lover
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