The days of the year into nights <br />The evenings into solace for burdens <br />Long days when reapers would cut gold <br />On earth and tilling the land with horse <br />Waiting for the season the damsels <br />Lovers would long to reap their fruit <br />One day reddened by sun the earth <br />The trees giving cold shelter <br />Sweat flowing down the bosom <br />In sweet aroma with nature <br />From the earthen pot when drank <br />Water from deep the well of love <br />Desires were raw with shine in eyes <br />Emotions were not put in fire to mould <br />The human habitation perhaps needs <br />No learning further than the one <br />With drawn swords the men <br />Women’s wrath for the young <br />Money is the other name of god <br />Some worldly comforts at least <br />The self contained economy <br />In the village now seek <br />Capital in surplus for the class <br />The struggle is for the machine <br />Shiny houses of bricks gaudy <br />The respectable ladies now hide <br />Reapers of the past in freedom <br />Now captive of the present in wealth <br />20/4/2009<br /><br />Sadiqullah Khan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reapers-of-the-past/
