Tuesday, December 20, 2011

A Backwater dream

Once I was Gazing at the Green  windy  paddy fields ,
Oh  green paddy fields,
I love my paddy fields.
Gods own splendid  country is where I come from.

The land of swirling  backwaters ,
cruising cosy houseboats .
We relish Swimming in the day light ,
 Rowing raft across the island.

Exploring Lonely  golden beaches,
meet few gambling beach boys.
we  snooze under the  palm shades,
 blissful memories eventuate…

Often  halt  at the  tea shop  ,
Besides the crumpled wooden  bridge ,
Fishing till  the sunset,
Sipping  cups of black tea.

The souls of the departed farmers ,
Whispering  in  the country breeze,
Who were Struggling all day and night,
Waiting  for the good times.


My  buddy  owns a farm house ,
We spend  nights  building  camp fire ,
Frying sardines  and  mackerels,
High on  country music..


Midnight  rambling in  the wilderness
 We are lost in the darkness.
moonlight  guides us back together
to sing the country song of love
across the green paddy fields….



"An experimental tuning of the backwater dream".