The one I live in
and the one that lives in me.
The whistle of the squirrels The blowing wind,
The smell of grass,
And- This spicy earth.
Friends like those village men and the cattle down near the river,
and those blossoming flowers The sky so big,
so full of shifting clouds and then those clouds creep- over the fields…
making the green, shine.
The sun smiles at my village,
The moon laughs with my village,
The stars live in my village…
The song of the wind, sound of rain,
heavy lanes, full of names…
My village the one I live in, the one that lives in me.
Turning wind mills,
The smell of green from our clean earth
The mornings with the whole day waiting full of promises,
The nights so quiet, filled with expectations and dreams…
My village the one I live in, and the one that lives in me
written by Zubi Baig
E mail: Zobiabaig99@gmail.com