On earthen roads where dust does rise,
below the expanse of the open skies.
The villages rely on the ancient ties,
where the humble people with hope relies.
The coconut trees with fronds that sway,
by gentle winds through night and day.
Their gentle shadow, shows the farmer's way,
as seasons change and canvas of colours play.
In the paddy fields, now of emerald green,
where water reflects the skies pristine.
Toil of the farmers is here daily seen,
their labour on the fields so serene.
The dark skins and their calloused hands,
farmers work and till those fertile lands.
By inner strength their spirit stands,
as they work together in united bands.
Through monsoon rains and sun's embrace,
they are just humble, a persevering race.
They find dignity in their time and space -
and grace the earth with their honest face.
On earther roads, unknown footsteps tread,
with simple dreams and their daily bread.
The villagers live on, though hopes are shed -
and still forward on their paths are led.
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