In the heart of the hinterland,
herd of cattle moving to the meadow music of  the cattle grazers,
intrinsic connection to it's humble roots in the reeds and soils of  motherland.

The flow of the rivers,
the parched hamlets,
the long hours of morning sun ,
the pastures live with the jingling bells
all of it aligned with nature as one.

The ranchers whistle heard loud and clear,
the livestock moves without fear,
humble beings with brightly tied turban heads,
leading them swiftly from forage lands to river beds.
He knows his land very well,
in harmony with nature he will dwell.

Out on the plains when the music springs,
Smoothing the cattle into the carpets of greens,
the humble cowherd sits in peace,
basking under the sunshine,with a sigh of relief,
nurturing the cattle for the day , a little worry shall cease.
for they will look after his need,
a act of mutual friendship indeed.

When days work is done from dawn to dusk,
Onto his bed he will tuck,
A silent promise the cattle grazer will make ,
for the love of his livestock every action he will take,
Come rain come shine,
when the seasons are rough and days are tough,
from far or near or from hill tops high to feed the cattle till he die .

@MRUNALINI NIMBALKAR