At the last hut of the village
Lives the girl of tender age
Her eyes though love filled
Meet only the long paddy field!

Forlorn on a lonely summer noon
She hugs her image on the stream
Wishes on her way would come soon
The boy she had found in her dream!

The last hut is ever too far
But for the winds blown away
None knows if ever a traveler
Would stray to her door one day!

She hugs her image on the stream
Washes her cute rice bran face
If ever comes the boy of her dream
Finds out her last hut address!

Her heart weaves a wish upon a star
On moonlit nights in silvers’ gleam
Next morn if the boy comes to her
She would ever cage him in her dream!