The sun smiled glorious and unkind,
At the wheat laden plains.
Winter allowed the cold to unfold,
Before the monsoon rains.
With celebrations every month,
Festivals for all occasions,
Enjoyable gatherings forget to regret.
Make time for such persuasions.
Although I have heard the songs,
Of the rain, love, loss, and gain.
I must admit, there was no submit,
Of a song such as you claim.
Perhaps there were beetles where I am from.
I am sure they sang their song.
The songs that I have heard were different,
Language, rhyme and form.
In the midst of all our differences,
Our smiles are the same.
My song is in your possession,
On yours I lay no claim.
Copyright ©2007 Barinder Singh
