Folk Song of India Farmer, Clouds, Rains and Trees

Written by: Ravindra K Kapoor

A Folk Song of India My Video Song is also on You Tube Background Note: Its a story of a worried Farmer as his fields were dry because of no rains & the season of planting Rice was passing fast. His eyes were full of tears while thinking, what he would eat & earn if he fails to plant the Rice saplings without good Rains in his fields. The song conveys feelings of an Indian farmer, who often face such situations due to lack of rains. Rains felt pity & flooded his fields or his love for Trees & Nature. Folk Song of India- Farmer, Clouds, Rains and Trees The Farmer was thinking, While sitting near his fields, How, he would plant, The saplings of Dhaan ( Rice). The clouds keep coming, But fly away and vanish soon, There are hardly few trees in the forest, Who can call and attract the clouds. To tell the clouds, The miseries of the farmer, As, clouds never overlook, The wishes of their beloved trees. But the trees could not convey and tell, The tortures and pains, they have suffered, One by one they have been cut and burned, By none other than their own nursing Man. Because of this only , The clouds often do not come, And run away without showering, When they see such humans. The Farmer was thinking, While sitting near his fields, How without rains he would plant, The saplings of Dhaan ( Rice). But that old farmer, Had planted many many trees, Thinking that the clouds, Came down on the ground. The eyes of the old farmer, Were wet and restless, Tears were appearing and were, Coming out, every now and then. The clouds hovering on the fields, Saw tears in his eyes, While wiping his tears, The clouds too began to weep. Then, it began to rain all over, And the fields got flooded soon, The old farmer raised his head, And saw towards the sky. After seeing all around, The fields flooded with water, The farmer with gratitude, Again & again touched the Rain clouds. Tears started flowing from his eyes, With happiness, And the clouds again showered more rains, To wipe the tears from the eyes of the old farmer. Then the time came to plant, The saplings of Dhaan (Rice), Without forests and their darling trees, Clouds hardly showers their love drops. The Farmer was thinking, While sitting near the fields, He would again plant, Many more and more tree this time. Kanpur India 24th July 2012center> Sub in Hon of LisaCooper for her Silver Tear contest